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Lancelot and Elaine 



POUND 



AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPPLY COMPANY 



TENiNYSON'S 

Lancelot and Elaine 



EDITED 

WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

LOUISE POUND, PH.D. 

ADJUNCT PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE 
UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA 



L,iNCOLN, Nebraska 
American School Supply Company 

1905 






[wo Qopies de«^ttvtxi 

OCT m 1^05 



Copyright 1905 

BY 

L,ouiSE Pound 



PREFACE 

The present edition of Lancelot and Elaine represents an 
endeavor to furnish a brief yet critical edition which will con- 
tain enough material to enable the student to understand ade- 
quately this special poem, its place in Arthurian literature, and 
in the completed cycle of the Idylls. Some acquaintance with 
the historical and literary development of the Arthurian sto- 
ries and with the genesis of the Idylls, though deserving, it 
need not be said, subordinate place to the study of the Idyll 
itself, seems necessary, at least to fairly mature students, if 
Tennyson's poem is rightly to be appreciated and understood. 

New features of the edition are an appendix containing illus- 
trative extracts from the Morfe Darthur on which the Idyll 
is chiefly based, surely as indispensable as the illustrations 
from Holinshed in the usual school editions of Macbeth, and 
the inclusion in the notes, where there seemed significance in 
the alteration, of earlier readings of amended passages, so 
often instructive as well as interesting if inquiry be made 
into the reason for the change. The notes are illustrative and 
explanatory as well as textual, and contain, throughout, fre- 
quent references to the other Idylls, from which, when studied 
separately, Lancelot and Elaine should not be disassociated. 
This Idyll, like the Idylls in general, has by this time been 
edited very often and very well; yet it is believed that some 
new or independent matter has been contributed, both in the 
introduction and in the notes. 

The text of the poem is, without alteration save for the 
Americanization of certain spellings, that of the Globe edition 
of Tennyson's works, incorporating the poet's latest revisions, 
and reproducing the text as he probably wished it to be 
transmitted. 



11 PREFACE 

Thanks are due to my colleague, Professor F. A. Stuff of 
the University of Nebraska, for reading the manuscript and 
for valuable suggestions. 

Louise Pound. 

Lincoln, 1905. 



CONTENTS 



Introduction 


PAGE 


L The Arthurian Stories . 


V 


II. The Idylls of the King 


xiii 


Lancelot and Elaine .... 


1 


Notes 


44 


Appendix . 


70 



INTRODUCTION 

I. THE ARTHURIAN STORIES 

Plac3 in Mediaeval Romance. — The Artlmrian stories have 
been for centuries a fountain-head for European romance. 
The mediaeval stories of court or chivalric life fall into four 
main groups, according to the source of their material: (1) 
those dealing with the epic material of classical antiquity, as 
the stories of Alexander, or of Troy; (2) the Charlemagne 
group, to which belongs the So]ig of Roland; (3) those deal- 
ing with Byzantine materials, as Flore and Blancheiioye, or 
Aucassin and Nicolcttc; (4) those dealing with British, or 
Breton, materials, or the Arthurian group. These romances 
were French in construction, but European in propagation 
and development. Representatives are found in the literatures 
of Germany, England, Italy, Holland, Spain, Portugal, and 
Norway. Among them the ideal of knightly chivalry and 
courtly society found best representation in the Arthurian 
romances, which strike both the secular note of the classical 
and Byzantine romances, and ,the ecclesiastical note of the 
Charlemagne group, and, borrowing largely from all three, 
became prolific and widely popular. They have found per- 
haps their highest development and most sympathetic treat- 
ment in the Idylls of Tennyson. 

Relation to Celtic Sources.— The nucleus of the Arthurian 
stories is undoubtedly Celtic. The matter and the environ- 
ment purport to be Celtic, and many of the place and proper 
names point to a Celtic source ; but many difficult problems, 
perhaps never to be settled satisfactorily, are bound up with 
the history of the origin of the stories and their spread. An 
especially perplexed question is, from what source did the 



Vi INTRODUCTION 

French romancers, who seem to have been the first to give 
Arthurian story literary treatment, derive their Celtic mate- 
rial? The French were in contact not only with the insular 
Celts in Britain, the Welsh or Cymry, but with those in Brit- 
tany (xA.rmorica) on the continent, descendants of the British 
who fled across the channel in the fifth and sixth centuries 
before the invading Saxons. Thus two possibilities arise. 
In the one, the material of the Breton romances (the matiere 
de Brctagne) is insular British, and the Anglo-Normans the 
medium of propagation. In the other, the material is Breton 
or Armoric, and from Brittany reached the continental French, 
who became the real creators of the romances, and gave them 
literary impetus and currency. 

For many years the trend of opinion favored the first 
hypothesis. Its foremost adherent, M. Gaston Paris,^ believes 
that the Norman conquest reawakened Celtic national feeling, 
kindling Welsh patriotic legend inherited from the fifth and 
sixth centuries, the heroic age of the insular British, to new 
life. Then, through the instrumentality of. the Anglo-Nor- 
mans, Celtic themes crossed the channel to France. Opposed 
to this is a more recent view, favoring an Armorican origin, 
of which the pioneer advocates are Professors W. Foerster'* 
and H. Zimmer.^ It is the view of this school that the Ar- 
thurian legend remained among the Welsh, but seems not to 
have been much developed by them. It was built up by the 
Bretons, among whom it flourished after their exodus from 
Britain, and through whom it reached their French neighbors. 
Possibly it became known in England through the Breton 
auxiliaries of the Normans. In any case, the indications of 
Celtic influence on the earliest Arthurian romances point, 
they maintain, not to Great Britain but to Brittany. It should 
be noted also, as regards Celtic origin, that some of the 

iHistoirc liitcraire de Ja France, etc. 
sintrod. to Ercc und Enide, 1890, etc. 
3Chiefly in various articles and reviews. 



INTRODUCTION VU 

legends of the Arthurian cycle, in their genesis and transmis- 
sion, may be Gaelic (Irish) rather than Cymric (Welsh)/ 

Arthurian Story in the Romantic Chronicles.— The kernel 
of the Arthurian legends is perhaps historical, but the meager 
testimon}^ of the older chroniclers makes it difficult to arrive 
at definite conclusions. It seems probable that the Arthurian 
legends exhibit the gradual elevation of a person originally 
of minor importance to a national hero, as in the legend of 
Roland, perhaps also of Beowulf and of Siegfried. The Brit- 
ish historian, Gil das, of the sixth century, mentions a battle 
at Mount Badon between Britons and Teutons, but is silent 
about Arthur, although this is traditionally his greatest battle. 
The same silence is preserved by Bede, in the eighth century. 
These were the chroniclers writing nearest the time when Ar- 
thur m.ust have lived. He is first named in an anonymous 
Historia Britonuin of the tenth century, in its original form 
dating perhaps from the last years of the eighth century, the 
supposed author of which was Nennius. By this time the 
glamour of great prowess and sanctity is already about him, 
but it is noteworthy that Nennius refers to him as a military 
leader {dux hcllonim) not as king {tunc Arthur pugnavit 
contra illos [Saxones] in illis dicbus . . .scd ipse dux erat 
hcllonim). Arthur had twelve victories over the heathen. 
In the last he slew single-handed by Mons Badonis nine hun- 
dred and sixty enemies (cf. note on 1.302). 

The Annalcs Cambriac of the middle of the tenth century 
contain two brief testimonies from Welsh tradition. The next 
link is the chronicle of William of Malmesbury (1125). By 
Geoffrey of Monmouth (1135), Historia Reguni Britanniae, 
the legend is in full bloom. The following is an abridgment 
of his version : 

Arthur is the son of Uther Penrlragon and Igerne of Cornwall, 
whom Uther takes as queen after the death of her husband, Duke 



ij. L. Weston, Legend of Sir Gawain^ 1897, etc. 



Viii INTRODUCTION 

Gorlois. He becomes king at fifteen, and, after subduing the 
Saxons, adds to his empire, in brilliant foreign conquest, Ireland, 
Gothland, the Orkneys, Norway, Daeia, Aquitaine, and Gaul. Dur- 
ing a solemn assembly at Caerleon-upon-Usk, messengers arrive 
from Lucius Tiberius, general of the Romans, demanding arrears 
of tribute. War is agreed on, and Arthur commits his kingdom 
and his queen, Guanhumara, to his nephew Modred. In the con- 
test between the Romans and the Britons, Arthur's nephew, Wal- 
gan, especially distinguishes himself. The Romans flee or sur- 
render. Meanwhile the news comes that Modred has usurped the 
throne and been wedded to Guanhumara. Arthur returns and de- 
feats Modred, and Guanhumara flees to a cloister in Caerleon. In 
a flnal encounter with Modred, the latter is killed, and Arthur, 
wounded, transfers his kingdom to his nephew Constantine, and 
is carried to the island of Avalon to be healed. 

Geoffrey says that Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, brought 
him a very old book in the British language {libriim hritannici 
sermonis) , and this he translated into Latin as the basis of 
his chronicle. This passage, which has been read in many 
ways, probably means that he had a Breton book from Brit- 
tany, and the contents, which often exhibit a character foreign 
to Welsh tradition, seem to bear out this assumption. Name- 
forms like Modred and Walgain suggest not the Welsh but 
Bretonized forms ; and Welsh sources are unfamiliar with the 
legend of Avalon. Geoffrey's book is, however, less a trans- 
lation than a mosaic from various sources. His authenticity 
was not accepted even in his own day ; nevertheless his chron- 
icle had great popularity. Four translations were made into 
French, of which the most important was by the Norman 
Wace (1155). These translations may have helped to bring 
the Arthurian stories to the attention of French poets, though 
doubtless familiar to them already. 

Wace added details concerning" Arthur, and is the first to 
mention {Brut 9996) the Round Table, possibly an echo of the 
peerage of Charlemagne, or possibly of Celtic origin, which 
he drew from Bretonic French sources, and of which Geoffrey 
knew nothing: 



INTRODUCTION IX 

fist Artus la roonde table, 

dont Breton dieut mainte fable. 

Arthur made the Round Table, 
of which Bretons tell many tales. 

Wace was translated into English by Layamon at the end 
of the twelfth century, and the legends further increased by 
the prophecy of Arthur's return, and additions concerning his 
wars and the Round Table. It is in Layamon's poem that the 
glamour of magic and fairy enchantment is added, especially 
to the story of Arthur's coming and passing, which lends 
Arthurian legend much of its charm. 

Arthurian 5tory in French Romance. —Meanwhile the 
Arthurian stories as current among the con f curs and fahlcuvs 
of Brittany were much used in French prose romances of the 
twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Among the earliest repre- 
sentatives are the metrical romances of Crestien de Troyes, 
his Ercc deserving the name of the first Arthurian poem. 
The legends seem to owe much to Crestien's making over. 
He stamped upon his Breton materials the ideals of high 
French society in the twelfth century, and gave them their 
chivalric setting — knight errantry, amour courtois, and bril- 
liant feasts and tournaments. He is thought by many to have 
added the episode of Lancelot and Guinevere. He made use 
of Celtic framework, borrowing rather than inventing his 
materials ; otherwise his romances have probably little to do 
with Celtic legend or antiquity. They enshrine rather the 
ideals and spirit of Crestien himself and his contemporaries, 
and of French court poetry of the period. With him, or his 
immediate predecessors or inspirers, begins, perhaps, the con- 
ception of Arthurian chivalry, of courtesy, loyalty, and ro- 
mantic love and honor. 

Development of the Tristan and the Qrail Cycles. — 
Two important cycles of Arthurian story early developed 
alongside of the Merlin (Arthur) and the Lancelot cycles, 



X INTRODUCTION 

the legends of Tristan and of the Grail. Of these the former 
is perhaps genuinely British, brought from England to France, 
and, though later so closely allied, had originally nothing to 
do with Arthurian story. It may have been on the model of 
the story of Tristan and Isolt that the episode of Lancelot 
and Guinevere, which first appears with Crestien, was built 
up, unless, for the latter episode, a Celtic origin be assumed. 
The Grail legend has a special and problematic history, and, 
like the Tristan legend, was not originally connected with 
Arthurian stor5^ After the Perceval of Crestien de Troyes, 
left incomplete and continued by other hands, the religious 
and mystic element exhibited in this legend made rapid prog- 
ress. It is very strong in the prose version written toward 
the end of the twelfth century. La Qucste del Saint Grail, 
ascribed, though with no great certainty, to the Anglo-Nor- 
man, Gautier Map. Here Perceval is relegated to second 
place as purest knight and chosen seeker of the Grail, being 
supplanted in first place by Galahad. 

On the themes of these various cycles of Arthurian romance, 
a vast, monotonous, and overlapping literature was elaborated, 
finally combining all the niolifs of mediaeval story. In the 
French verse romances, Arthur himself is generally repre- 
sented as inactive; his court is the rendezvous from which 
knights go in quest of adventure. In the prose romances he 
is pictured somewhat differently, as the national hero. His 
wars with the Saxons are fully treated, and the final catas- 
trophe depicted, neither of which is touched upon in the verse 
romances. With the progress of the religious element in the 
Grail legend, to which a tendency to unite the other cycles 
manifested itself, the story of the Hos regum of the chroni- 
clers developed into a tragedy in which Arthur, no longer 
the blameless king, is responsible for his own ruin. Mean- 
while accretions had been made to the legends from various 
sources, classical antiquity, oriental tales, scriptural narra- 



INTRODUCTION XI 

lives, popular history, and popular legend, transforming their 
character, and swelling them to vast and varied proportions. 

The **Morte Darthur" of Malory. — By the middle of th^ 
thirteenth century, the various cycles of Arthurian adventure 
had accumulated until need was felt of a compendium or 
abridgment. The first attempt was made, about 1.270, in 
French, by the Italian, Rusticien; another in German, some- 
what later, by Ulrich FiArtrer. The most important and com- 
plete compilation was made in England (1469-70), by Sir 
Thomas Malory (Malorye, or Maleore), printed in 14S5 by 
Caxton. An extensive Arthurian literature from French 
sources existed in English before Malory, but his work, not 
rightly named the Morte Darthiir, since it narrates much more 
than Arthur's death, was destined to become a fountain-head. 
He sought to bring the fortuitous accretion of his originals, 
some of which are preserved and some lost, into a sort of co- 
herence. The work was accomplished not without diffaseness 
and involved arrangement, and contains many repetitions and 
inconsistencies. It leaves some tales incomplete, like that of 
Lancelot, and omits others, like that of Free; but in the main 
Malory had remarkable success. He struck the right balance 
between the secular and the spiritual, and told the story of 
Arthur, from his birth to the tragic culmination lending the 
book its name, with a certain fateful consistency that en- 
thralled the popular imagination, and made his work the clas- 
sical version of Arthurian story. Moreover, his style, though 
he follows his originals closely, copying their idioms, and 
often wrongly translating, is characteristically quaint and 
simple, and, possessing strong charm, has had no little in- 
fluence upon English prose. 

Arthurian Story in Later Literature.— After Malory, the 
Arthurian legends retained strong hold, and the story of their 
progress forms a special chapter in the history of English 
literature. The greatest names before the modern period. 



Xll INTRODUCTION 

Chancer, Shakespeare, and Milton, left motives from this 
source untouched, but show familiarity by occasional allu- 
sions. In 1587, the Misfortunes of Arthur, written by Thomas 
Hughes, almost the first English tragedy, had for its chief 
characters, Arthur, Modred, and Guenevera. Spenser gives 
Arthur prominent place in his allegory of the Faerie Queene, 
and makes many references to Celtic tradition. When Milton 
was a 3^outh, he intended, about 1638-39, to make Arthur the 
hero of a great national epic, but gave up the design because 
unable to convince himself that the existence of the British 
king was not merely mythical. Sir Richard Blackmore, a 
physician, published two long dull epics in 1695 and 1697, 
entitled Prince Arthur and King Arthur. Dryden, in this 
same period, composed a farcical allegorical opera on the 
story of Arthur, and projected an epic on either Arthur or 
Edward III., which he did not execute. Fielding in 1730 wrote 
a burlesque of Round Table stories, and they remained in 
some disrepute until Percy's Rcliqucs in 1765, containing 
several ballads relating to King Arthur, which brought about 
a revival of popular interest. At the beginning of the nine- 
teenth century. Sir Walter Scott edited a version of the story 
of Sir Tristram, and wrote his Bridal of Triermain from 
Arthurian inspiration. In 1849 Bulwer-Lytton composed an 
ambitious but unsuccessful epic. King Arthur, in six-line 
stanzas. Among minor Arthurian poems of the century may 
be mentioned the Morte Arthur by R. Heber, 1841, the Quest 
of the Sangraal by R. S. Hawker, 1863, the Fareivell of 
Ganore by G. A. Simcox, 1869, and Arthur's Knighting and 
the Eve of Morte Arthur by S. Evans, 1875. Wordsworth 
refers to Arthurian story in the Egyptian Maid and in various 
minor allusions. Lastly are to be named the Tristan and 
Iseult of Matthew Arnold, 1852, the Defence of Guenevere 
by William Morris, 1858, and the Tristram of Lyoncsse, 1882, 
and the Tale of Balen, 1896, by Swinburne. In America, 



INTRODUCTION Xlll 

Richard Hovey composed several notable poems on Arthurian 
themes. 

Outside of England the influence of the legends has been 
equally strong. In Italy, Dante, Ariosto, and Petrarch made 
frequent use of Arthurian material. In old German literature, 
in which the developm.ent of the legends was as interesting 
as for old French literature, the Pardfal of Wolfram von 
Eschenbach, the Tristan of Gottfried von Strassburg, and the 
Izvein of Hartmann von Aue, won deserved and widespread 
popularity. The story of Tristram was touched upon also by 
Hans Sachs. German Arthurian poets of the modern period 
are Wieland (1739-1813), K. Immermann, F. Roeber, L. 
Schneegans, and W. Elertz. The greatest German works of 
Arthurian inspiration are the operas of Richard Wagner, 
Par.zifal, Tristan und Isolde, and Lohengrin. In France, 
Ronsard and La Fontaine show many traces of familiarity 
with Round Table legends, and in the last century poems on 
Arthurian themes were written by Edgar Quinet. 

II. THE IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Composition of the Idylls.— Tennyson's first venture in 
Arthurian legend was the lyric, The Lady of Shalott, a fore- 
shadowing of the story of Elaine, published in 1832, in his 
volume entitled Poems. His two-volume edition, published 
in 1842, contained two more Arthurian lyrics. Sir Galahad 
and the fragment Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. This 
same volume contained, inclosed in a poetical setting called 
The Epic, the Morte d'Arthur, afterwards incorporated in 
The Passing of Arthur. In 1857 six "trial copies" of Enid 
and Niniue: the True and the False were published, the lat- 
ter being the original of the later Vivien. In 1859, under the 
title The True and the False: Four Idylls of the King were 
fjublished Enid, Vivien, Elaine, and Guinevere, the names of 
all but the last being subsequently modified. Vivien became 



XIV INTRODUCTION 

Merlin and Vivien, and Elaine became Lancelot and Elaine. 
Enid was divided in 1888 into two parts, and given the ijames, 
The Marriage of Geraint, and Geraint and Enid. In a new 
edition of the Idylls in 1862, the Dedication to the Prince was 
added. In 1869, dated 1870, was published The Holy Grail 
and Other Poems, containing, beside The Holy Grail, the 
Idylls The Coming of Arthur, Pelleas and Ettarre, and The 
Passing of Arthur, enlarged from the Morte d' Arthur of 1842. 
In 1872 appeared The Last Tournament, first printed in the 
Contemporary Reviezv for December, 1871, and Gareth and 
Lynette. The Epilogue of the Idylls, To the Queen, was 
printed in 1873. Lines 9-28 were added to The Passing of 
Arthur in an edition of this year. The last Idyll, Balin and 
Balan, was included in Tiresias and Other Poems in 1885. 
With the division of Enid in 1888, the number of the Idylls 
was brought up to twelve. Tennyson wrote one other poem 
under Arthurian inspiration, the lyric Merlin and the Gleam, 
printed in 1889. 

The Idylls of the King, as published in com.pleted form, 
fall into the following order: Dedication (1862), The Coming 
of Arthur (1869), Gareth and Lynette (1872), The Marriage 
of Geraint (1859), Geraint and Enid (1859), Balin and Balan 
(1885), Merlin and Vivien (1857), Lancelot and Elaine 
(1859), The Holy Grail (1869), Pelleas and Ettarre (1869), 
The Last Tournament (1871), Guinevere (1859), The Passing 
of Arthur (Morte d' Arthur, 1842) (1869), To the Queen 
(1873). 

Thus the composition of the Idylls covered the forty-three 
years from 1842 to 1885, and Tennyson's poetic interest in 
the Arthurian legends the fifty-seven years from 1832 to 1889. 
He approached his subject first with lyrics, then with an ep- 
ical fragment belonging at the end of his series. He con- 
tinued it with four pictures of women, belonging here and 
there in the completed structure, followed ten years later by 



INTRODUCTION XV 

the Idyll belonging at the beginning, and by three others. 
Two years later came two more Idylls, and thirteen years 
later came the last, belonging neither at the beginning nor at 
the end of the sequence, but in the middle. It seems so won- 
derful as to be scarcely credible that a series of poems show- 
ing when completed organic unity should have been so 
composed. 

Development oT Unity of Design.— Tennyson seems early 
to have contemplated the Arthurian legends as poetic mate- 
rial. "At twenty-four I meant to write an epic or drama of 
King Arthur; and I thought that I should take twenty years 
about the work."^ From his youth he had written out in 
prose various histories of Arthur.^ Mention is made in a con- 
versation in the poetical setting of the Morte d' Arthur (1842) 
of an epic on Arthur, "some twelve books," of which the 
Morte d' Arthur is the eleventh; but there may have been 
nothing behind this reference. Hallam Tennyson says that 
his father "carried a more or less perfected scheme in his 
head for over thirty years."^ His first work seems, however, 
without coherent design. He produced his poems piecemeal, 
without apparent thought of continuing with the same theme, 
or of reaching ultimate unity. The four Idylls of 1859 are 
simply studies of "the true and the false," allegory being yet 
undeveloped or in the background. In 1862 he wrote of them 
to the Duke of Argyll: 

"As to joining these [the Idylls] with the 'Morte d' Arthur' there 
are two objections, — one that I could scarcely light upon a finer 
close than that ghostlike passing away of the King, and the other 
that the 'Morte' is older in style. I have thought about it and 
arranged the intervening Idylls, but I dare not set to work for 
fear of failure and time lost." {Memoir, I, 482.) 

Clearly at this date the Idylls were not intended as parts 
of a whole, whatever Tennyson had vaguely in mind to at- 



mcmoir, II, 89-90. ^Ih., U, 121. ^Ih., II, 125. 



XVI INTRODUCTION 

tempt in future. "After the first instalment of 'Enid/ 'Vivien/ 
'Elaine,' and 'Guinevere/ in spite of the public applause, he 
did not rush headlong into the other Idylls. For one thing 
he did not consider that the time was ripe. In addition to 
this he did not find himself in the proper mood to write 
them ... he was not sure he could keep up to the same 
high level throughout the remaining Idylls."^ Sometime in 
the next decade, before the publication of the Holy Grail 
volume in 1869, the plan of the completed series and of the 
introduction of allegory seems to have formed itself defi- 
nitely. In 1868 he wrote to Mr. Palgrave : 

"The 'Grair is not likely to be published for a year or two. 
... I shall write three or four more of the Idylls, and link them 
together as well as I may." {Memoir, II, 02.) 

With the Coming of Arthur, in this volume, the allegory 
of Sense at war with Soul was fully introduced, and reigned 
throughout the remaining Idylls. After this year, Tennyson's 
plan and the allegorical drift of his poems were recognized 
on all sides. 

The gradual growth in design of the Idylls necessitated 
many modifications as new poems were written. Attention 
is called to significant changes in Lancelot and Elaine in notes 
on various passages. Most of these changes were made in 
the 1873 or 1874 editions. Similar alterations are found in 
the other Idylls. One passage in the Morie d'Arthur (11.220- 
24) written before Tennyson had yet fully sketched out the 
character of Arthur, was allowed to remain when the poem 
was remodeled into The Passing of Arthur (11.389-93) al- 
though not in harmony with passages elsewhere, portraying 
the king not as a contestant for victory in tournaments but 
as a champion. (So, for example, in Lancelot and Elaine, 
11.310-11.) It was in accordance with this tendency toward 



iMemoir, II, 125. 



INTRODUCTION XVll 

unity of design that the names of the 1859 Idylls, Enid, Vivien, 
and Elaine were changed to Geraint mid Enid, Merlin and 
Vivien, and Lancelot and Elaine, making them less conspicu- 
ously studies of women and more closely related to the Ar- 
thurian legends. 

Sources and Treatment. — "On Malory, and later on Lady 
Charlotte Guest's translation [from the Welsh] of the 
Mabinogion, and on his own imagination, my father said that 
he chiefly founded his epic; he has made the old legends his 
own, restored the idealism, and infused into them a spirit of 
modern thought and an ethical significance, setting his char- 
acters in a rich and varied landscape ; as indeed otherwise 
these archaic stories would not have appealed to the modern 
world at large."" Tennyson was fond of Malory's narratives 
from boyhood. Hallam Tennyson has still in his possession, 
he says, the copy of the Morte d' Arthur which his father 
loaned to Leigh Hunt, "a small book for the pocket, pub- 
lished in 1816, by Walker and Edwards, and much used by 
my father."* Tennyson's names and stories, the framework 
of the Idylls, come from Malory. From the Mabinogion he 
took the story of Geraint and Enid. Tennyson drew also on 
several sources which his son does not mention. From Geof- 
frey of Monmouth come the names Modred, Igerne, Gorlois, 
and others, and stray touches in the handling. From Nennius 
he borrowed the account of Arthur's twelve battles (cf. note 
on 1.2S4). He also undoubtedly used Ellis' Specimens of 
Early English Metrical Romances (London 1805, 2d ed. 
1849). From Ellis he probably derived a few passages like 
the interview between Lancelot and Guinevere, and the story 
of Lancelot's childhood. (Cf. notes on 11.605, 840, 1155, 1172, 
1197, 1393.) 

Tennyson has reconstructed, abridged, and altered Malory's 
stories. He keeps their archaic color and their humanity, but 
^Memoir, II, 121. Ih., I, 156. 

2 



XViii INTRODUCTION 

modernizes and sophisticates, changing the order and pro- 
portion of parts and the significance. He has been criticised 
for this/ especially for transforming Arthur. Tennyson's 
changes in Arthur were, however, less arbitrary than his 
changes in other characters. It is Tristram who is most 
altered in the Idylls. The story of Tristram and Isolt, which 
in the legends has equal prominence with that of Lancelot 
and Guinevere, is subordinated, and its nature modified. The 
character of Tristram is lowered. On the other hand Lance- 
lot is elevated, till his figure almost overshadows the king's. 
Other changes are in the episode of Merlin and Nimue, in 
the outcome of Pelleas and Ettarre (Ettarde in Malory), and 
in the episode, toward the close of their story, of Guinevere's 
condemnation and Lancelot's rescue. Moreover, the sequence 
of the stories is changed, the order in Malory being: The 
birth of Arthur, the episode of Balin and Balan, Merlin's 
fate, the episode of Pelleas and Ettarre, the stories of Gareth 
and Tristram, the quest of the Grail, the episode of Lancelot 
and Elaine, the revelation of Guinevere's transgression, Ar- 
thur's death. 

Use of Archaisms. — Tennyson's debt to Malory in his 
poetic vocabulary is made clear by a comparison of passages 
from Lancelot and Elaine with the parallel passages from 
the Morte Darthur. He makes frequent use of characteristic 
words from the latter, such as jousts, affiance, devoir, marvel, 
hurl, parted, 'departed,' allozv, worshipful, whole, 'well,' 
sore (the adverb), peradventure, etc., and of archaic verb 
forms like wot, wist, get, brake, etc., (cf. note on 1.50). Other 
archaic words and expressions found in this Idyll are yea, 
anon, an, 'if,' etc. Tennyson's liking for older English words 
and expressions is noted by his son : 



iCf. Swinburne, In his Miscellanies. 



INTRODUCTION XIX 

"If he differentiated his style from that of any other poet, he 
would remark on liis use of English in preference to words derived 
from French and Latin. He revived many fine old words which 
had fallen into disuse ; and I heard him regret that he had never 
employed the word yarely." (Memoir, II, 133.) 

The Name "Idylls." — Tennyson has been criticised forgiv- 
ing the name "Idylls" to his Arthurian poems. Idyll is from 
the Greek etSo?, elSvXXiov, a 'little picture.' In strict usage 
it means a short poem of pastoral or sylvan life, as the Idylls 
of Theocritus of the third century, B. C. In his volume of 
1842 Tennyson gave the title English Idylls to poems like 
The Gardener's Daughter, Dora, /Dudley Court, etc., here 
appropriate enough since these deal v^ith idealized primitive 
or rural life, as the name Idylls suggests. The tone in the 
Idylls of the King is not idyllic, or pastoral, but heroic. Yet 
in a loose sense they may well be designated Idylls, since each 
constitutes a picture, distinct and finished, and since they 
blend the narrative with the descriptive. Idyll is now a recog- 
nized name for short poems of this cross species, half heroic 
and half descriptive. 

In 1842 the Morte d' Arthur was included in a framework 
called The Epic, thus suggesting an epical character for it; 
but Tennyson did not retain this title. The name Idylls of 
the King was fixed upon sometime between 1857 and 1859, 
the year of the appearance of the volume entitled The True 
and the False: Four Idylls of the King. In 1870, in the Holy 
Grail volume, Tennyson seems to have called the separate 
poems ''books," as well as poems or idylls. The title finally 
adopted was Idylls of the King: In Twelve Books. Tennyson 
never used the word "epic" in a title after 1842, recognizing 
that the poems had not sufficient unity of grasp, or sufficient 
narrative force to render them strictly epical. Tennyson's 
friend and critic, Edmund Lushington, proposed a new title 
as a solution of the difficulty, calling the Idylls of the King, 
Epylls of the King. "According to him they were little Epics 



XX INTRODUCTION 

(not Idylls) woven into an epical unity, but my father dis- 
liked the sound of the word 'Epylls.' "^ 

The more usual spelling of the word is 'idyl,' like 'sibyl,' 
'beryl,' etc., from similar Greek originals. Tennyson uses 
'idyl' in The Princess. In his Arthurian poems the word 
appears always with -//, a spelling now in very common use. 

The Idylls in Sequence.— The completed Idylls epitomize 
the whole of Malory's narrative, having necessarily discarded 
unserviceable episodes and details, but sketching in clear lines 
the growth and decline of the Round Table, Arthur's ideal 
order of spiritual chivalry. Tlic Coming of Arthur serves as 
the prologue of the series. It introduces the various rumors 
of his "coming" and "passing," "from the great deep to the 
great deep," and invests him with a mysterious spiritual in- 
terest: He is shown as the institutor of peace and justice and 
order. The bond between him and Lancelot is formed, and 
the Queen mentioned, though not yet with much definiteness. 
In Gareth and Lynette, the order is in its freshest and best 
period, and is drawing to itself youths like the strong and 
joyous Gareth. Arthur is at its head, his vows respected, his 
knights loyal, and no germ of infection yet visible. In The 
Marriage of Geraint, and its sequel Geraint and Enid, comes 
the first hint of distrust, and the foreshadowing of lack of 
knightly activity among Arthur's followers. The opening note 
of the fateful passion of Lancelot and the Queen is sounded; 
and already suspicion is appearing among the knights. In 
Baliii and Balan, the suspicions of the knights have become 
patent facts. The violence of his disillusion in those whom 
he had taken as his ideals, brings catastrophe to Balin, and 
to his brother, and loss of one of his strongest knights to 
Arthur. In Merlin and Vivien, the king suffers another loss. 
Lynette and Enid are succeeded by Vivien, who invades the 
court, spreading scandal, and sowing the seeds of corruption. 



^Memoir, II, 130. 



INTRODUCTION XXI 

Her wiles compass the destruction of Merlin, and lose for 
Arthur his profoundest mind. The Idyll Lancelot and Elaine 
is in another key, and marks a turning point in the sequence. 
Lancelot finds her who seems fitted to be his mate, but it is 
too late, and she dies broken hearted. Already Gawain trifles 
Vv'ith Arthur's orders. There is a crisis between Lancelot and 
the Queen. Lancelot realizes his position, but he has cast in 
his lot, and there will be no lasting change. After The Holy 
Grail, the turn is swiftly downward. The first enthusiasm of 
the knights is dead. The court and its life of action, now no 
longer associated with the highest good, are abandoned in the 
fruitless quest of the Grail. The second agent in the break- 
ing up of the fellowship is asceticism and superstition in the 
guise of religion. Pellcas and Ettarre is the transition Idyll 
from The Holy Grail to The Last Tournament. Pelleas is 
a new made knight. He is inexperienced, like Gareth, but 
finds, unlike the latter, a corrupt society, and is wrecked by 
the shock of disillusion. The lowest point is touched in The 
Last Tournament. The infection has spread until Arthurian 
ideals can fall no further. The wrong doing of Lancelot and 
Guinevere is paralleled by Tristram and Isolt, but without 
their nobleness and high devotion. The greatest joust since 
that for the last diamond marks the death of innocence, and 
shows the laws of courtesy broken. In Guinevere, Lancelot 
and the Queen have begun their expiation, but the fatal con- 
sequences have been wrought out. The kingdom is in con- 
fusion and the Round Table shattered. Guinevere sees too 
late the real greatness of Arthur. The completing Idyll, or 
better, the epilogue of the series, is The Passing of Arthur. 
Here, his realm fallen, his work and his ideals broken down, 
the king goes to his last great battle, is given his death wound 
by Modred, and is borne away to the island-valley of Avilion. 
In the Idylls, Modred is the slayer of the king, but is not the 
real wrecker of the kingdom. 



XXll INTRODUCTION 

Anachronism in the Setting — The state of societ}^ pic- 
tured by Malory has, it is perhaps superfluous to point out, 
neither chronological nor historical truth. The historical Ar- 
thur, if he existed at all, existed in the sixth century. Mal- 
ory's picture, exaggerated and highly colored, is a sublimation 
of feudal chivalry. Instead of Celtic Britain of the sixth 
century, it suggests the age of the Crusades, when, if there 
were not real knights errant, adherents of coiirtoisie and the 
laws of chivalry, there were at least those who wished to be. 
The glitter of chivalry was yet strong in the days of Edward 
III., recorded in Froissart's chronicles, and, in Malory's own 
period, has not quite waned. In the Idylls, the setting is even 
more idealized and unreal than in the Morte Darthur. Ten- 
nyson preserves the exteriors of the age of knight errantry, 
but his hero, Arthur, moves in an ethical and social atmos- 
phere more nearly that of to-day than that of the sixth century 
or of the feudal era. His characters speak and think with the 
standards, moral attitudes, and subjective questionings of the 
nineteenth century. Tennyson modernized and sophisticated 
the material of the Morte Darthur in accordance with con- 
temporary ideals. 

The geography and the scenery of the Arthurian stories are 
hardly less impossible than the history. Theirs is an "un- 
British Britain," exhibiting the mystic cities, enchanted cas- 
tles and woods, waste lands and marvelous wild beasts, char- 
acteristic of Celtic legend and of Old French romance. 

Duration of the Action. — The time occupied by the action 
of the Idylls is said by Mr. Elsdale^ and others to extend over 
a single mystic year. Tennyson has struck the progressive 
notes of the seasons very clearly and with purpose — 

"My father made this further manuscript note on another phase 
of the unity of the poem. 'The Coming of Arthur is on a night of 
the New Year ; when he is wedded the world is white with May ; 



^Studies in the Idylls (1878). 



INTRODUCTION XXIII 

on a summer night the vision of the Holy Grail appears ; and the 
Last Tournament is in the yellowing autumn-tide. Guinevere flees 
through the mists of autumn, and Arthur's death takes place at 
midnight in midwinter.' " {Memoir, II, 133). 

Beyond the sentences quoted Tennyson has left no word 
with regard to the duration of the Idylls. He may or may 
not have cared to have the time definitely fixed. Clearly he 
can not mean that the poems occupy a literal year, but in- 
tends rather to typify the seasons of human life, or in each 
case to adapt the mood of nature to his theme. Definite time- 
hints are given in Lancelot and Elaine, which is one of the 
"Summer Idylls." Reference is made to the heathen who 
seized Astolat ten j^ears before. The diamonds were found 
before Arthur became king (1.34) ; and his first year was 
probably occupied by the coronation, the wars with the 
heathen and the Romans, and the founding of the Round 
Table. If the jousts were instituted in the second year of his 
reign, the episode of Lancelot and Elaine, which itself covers 
many weeks (cf. Lancelot's illness), would then take place in 
the tenth. The remaining four Idylls of the series belong 
closely together. Professor Maccallum, in a discussion of 
the question,^ suggests that they may have occupied two years, 
thus allowing about twelve years for the whole cycle. 

Allegory in the Idylls. — Tennyson himself asks his read- 
ers to accept the allegorical bent of the Idylls in To the Queen, 
11.36-42 : 

"... accept this old imperfect tale. 
New-old, and shadowing Sense at war with Soul 
Rather than that gray king, whose name, a ghost. 
Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, from mountain 

peak, 
And cleaves to cairn and cromlech still ; or him 
Of Geoffrey's book, or him of Malleor's. . . ." 



\Tennyson's Idylls and Arthurian Story, 423. 



XXIV INTRODUCTION 

To Mr. J. T. Knowles he said, "By King Arthur I always 
meant the soul and by the Round Table the passions and 
capacities of mcn."^ The allegorical meaning in the Idylls 
has been treated very often.^ The following, quoted from 
Mr. Littledale. suggests in brief space accepted interpretations 
that may be found by the seeker after allegorical meaning : 

"The Coming of Arthur shows us the soul, typified by Arthur, 
borne into this world of sense. . . The minor paraphernalia of 
the allegory — the great hall of Arthur, symbolical not of the body, 
but of the stages through which the soul must rise and the war 
that it must wage ; the church at Camelot, with the guiding pow- 
ers, Merlin, intellect, the Lady of the Lake, religion, and the three 
helpful Queens, Christian virtues ; the sword of the spirit, the 
armour of the soul militant ; the dragon-boughts of evil tempta- 
tions that twist and twine around us ; the rays of heavenly radi- 
ance, love and faith and hope, and the great symbol of the cross,— 
these have no need of detailed interpretation : we may ascribe as 
much or as little meaning to them as we please. Then in the first 
Idyll of the Round Table we have the strife of Gareth, the strong 
youth, against the foolish symbols of time that the 'four fools' 
have sucked from the holy hermit's rock-sculptured parable. 
The fi'esh morning, the hot noon, the mellowing evening of life 
ai"e typified ; the respective periods of youthful love, and golden 
cares and ambitions, and the fading life of settled habits, good 
or bad. . . Then in the Grail we see once more the higher life 
symbolized. . . Rut such quests are only for the few . 
even Arthur himself, the ordinary noble soul, can not undertake 
the Grail at all times. . . The soul that Arthur typifies is the 
soul of every one of us — it must feel the warmth of double life, 
must be mated to sense, as Arthur is to Guinevere. If that union 
is happy and regulated, all will go well ; the purpose of the soul's 
life will be fulfilled. But if not, if sense, the co-mate of soul be 
weak and foolish, the children born of their union will be 'red 



^The Nineteenth Cefitunj, January, 1893. 

^Contemporary Review. January. 1870: May. 1873 (along lines 
Tennyson himself indicated) ; The Spectator, January, 1870. Cf. 
also Studies in the Idylls, II. Elsdale, 1878 ; Essays on Tennyson's 
IdyUs, H. Littledale, 1893 ; Tennyson's Idylls and Arthurian Story, 
M. W. Maccallum, 1894 : and (one of the best short discussions) 
Tennyson, his Art and Relation to Modern Life, Stopford A. 
Brooke, 1894 (pp. 255-370). 



INTRODUCTION XXV 

ruin and the breaking up of laws.' . . . Last, as the sun of 
human existence is sinking in the west, that battle in the winter 
of life must come, must end in defeat— the soul must pass away. 
But not to perish utterly. . . Perchance in another life it may 
heal of its grievous wound. . ." 

Lancelot and Elaine was one of the earlier Idylls, and shows 
hardly any allegorical touches (cf. note on 1.1393). In others, 
like The Holy Grail, there is little less than in Gareth and 
Lynctte. 

Tennyson on the Meaning of the Idylls. — It seems clear 
nevertheless that Tennyson did not wish too great stress to 
be given to the allegory appearing in the Idylls. "Let not 
my readers press too hardly for details whether for history 
or for allegory," he said of the Morte d' Arthur. "Some think 
that Arthur may be taken to typify conscience. He is anyhow 
meant to be a man who spent himself in the cause of honor, 
duty, and self-sacrifice, who felt and aspired with his nobler 
knights, though with a stronger and clearer conscience than 
any of them."^ "He considered the reviews of the inner 
meaning of the poem by Dean Alford in the Contemporary, 
and by J. T. Knowles in the Spectator the best."^ "But in later 
years he often said, 'They have taken my hobby and ridden it 
too hard, and have explained some things too allegorically, 
although there is an allegorical or perhaps rather a parabolic 
drift in the poems. Of course Camelot for instance, a city of 
shadowy palaces, is everywhere symbolic of the gradual 
growth of human beliefs and institutions, and of the spiritual 
development of man. Yet there is no single fact or incident 
in the Idylls, however seemingly mystical, which can not be 
explained as without any mystery or allegory whatever.' " "I 
hate to be tied down to say 'This means that' because the 
thought within the image is much more than any one inter- 
pretation.'"' 



-^Memoir, I, 194. "^Ih., II, 126. 3/6.^ n, 127. 



XXVI INTRODUCTION 

Perhaps the following from the same passage, said by Ten- 
nyson with regard to the many meanings of the poem, best 
indicates his attitude : 

"Poetry is like shot silk with many glancing colors. Every 
reader must find his own interpretation according to his ability, 
and according to his sympathy with the poet. The general drift 
of the Idylls is clear enough. The whole is the dream of man 
coming into practical life and ruined by one sin. Birth is a mys- 
tery and death is a mystery, and in the midst lies the table-land 
of life, and its struggles and performances. It is not the history 
of one man or of one generation but of a whole cycle of genera- 
tions." 



INTRODUCTION XXVll 



SELECT REFERENCES 

1. Tennyson Biography. 

Alfred Lord Tennyson, A Memoir, hy his Son (Macmillan). 
Records of Tennyson, Ruskin and Browning, Mrs. Anne Thackeray 
Ritchie (Harper and Bros.). Alfred Lord Tennyson, Arthur 
Waugh (Macmillan). Alfred Tennyson, A. C. Lyall (Macmillan). 

2. Tennyson Criticism. 

Tennyson, his Art and Relation to Modern Life, Stopford, A. 
Brooke (Isbister). Tennyson, a Critical Study, S. Gwynn 
(Blackie). Handbook to Tennyson's Works, Morton Luce (Bell 
and Sons). A Study of the Works of Tennyson, E. E. Tainsh 
(Macmillan). TJie Poetry of Tennyson, Henry Van Dyke (Scrib- 
rier's). 

3. The Idylls of the King. 

Studies in the Idylls of the King, Henry Elsdale (Kegan Paul). 
Essays on Tennyson's Idylls of the King, H. Littledale (Mac- 
millan). The Growth of the Idylls of the King, Richard Jones 
(Lippincott). Tennyson's Idylls of the King and Arthurian Story, 
M. W. Maccallum (MacLehose). The Meaning of the Idylls of 
the King, C. B. Palleu (American Book Company). 

4. Malory and the Arthurian Stories. 
Le Morte Darthur. Reprint of Caxton's Edition, with Intro- 
duction, Glossary, etc. H. Oskar Sommer. Ill vols. (Sonnen- 
scliein). Selections from the Morte Darthur. Edited by W. E. 
Mead. The introduction has full bibliograpliical references. (Ginn 
and Co.) The Morte d^ Arthur. Edited by Sir E. Strachcy An 
edition with modernized text. (Macmillan.) The Arthurian Leg- 
end, John Rhys (Clarendon Press). Studies of the Legend of the 
Holy Grail, A. Nutt (D. Nutt). The Legend of Sir Lancelot, 
Jessie L. Weston (D. Nutt), etc. 



10 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Elaine the fair, Blaine the lovable, 

Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, 

High in her chamber up a tower to the east 

Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot; 

Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray 

Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam; 

Then fearing rust or soilure fashion'd for it 

A case of silk, and braided thereupon 

All the devices blazon'd on the shield 

In their own tinct, and added, of her wit, 

A border fantasy of branch and flower, 

And yellow-throated nestling in the nest. 

Nor rested thus content, but day by day, 

Leaving her household and good father, climb'd 

That eastern tower, and entering barr'd her door, 15 

Stript off the case, and read the naked shield, 

Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his arms, 

Now made a pretty history to herself 

Of every dint a sword had beaten in it. 

And every scratch a lance had made upon it. 

Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh; 

That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle; 

That at Caerleon; this at Camelot: 

And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there! 

And here a thrust that might have kill'd, but God 

Broke the strong lance, and roll'd his enemy down, 

And saved him: so she lived in fantasy. 

How came the lily maid by that good shield 
Of Lancelot, she that knew not ev'n his name? 



20 



2 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

He left it with her, when he rode to tilt 30 

For the great diamond in the diamond jousts, 
Which Arthur had ordain'd, and by that name 
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize. 

For Arthur, long before they crown'd him king, 
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonesse, 35 

Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn. 
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave 
Like its own mists to all the mountain side: 
For here two brothers, one a king, had met 
And fought together; but their names were lost; 40 

And each had slain his brother at a blow; 
And down they fell and made the glen abhorr'd: 
And there they lay till all their bones were bleach'd, 
And lichen'd into color with the crags: 
And he, that once was king, had on a crown 45 

Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside. 
And Arthur came, and laboring up the pass. 
All in a misty moonshine, imawares 
Had trodden that crown'd skeleton, and the skull 
Brake from the nape, and from the skull the crown 50 

Roll'd into light, and turning on its rims 
Fled like a glittering rivulet to the tarn: 
And down the shingly scaur he plunged, and caught. 
And set it on his head, and in his heart 
Heard murmurs, "Lo, thou likewise shalt be king." 55 

Thereafter, when a king, he had the gems 
Pluck'd from the crown, and show'd them to his knights. 
Saying, "These jewels, whereupon I chanced 
Divinely, are the kingdom's, not the King's — 
For public use: henceforward let there be, GO 

Once every year, a joust for one of these: 
For so by nine years' proof we needs must learn 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE d 

Which is our mightiest, and ourselves shall grow 

In use of arms and manhood, till we drive 

The heathen, who, some say, shall rule the land i^:) 

Hereafter, which God hinder." Thus he spoke: 

And eight years past, eight jousts had been, and still 

Had Lancelot won the diamond of the year, 

With purpose to present them to the Queen, 

When all were won; but meaning all at once 70 

To snare her royal fancy with a boon 

Worth half her realm, had never spoken word. 

Now for the central diamond and the last 
And largest, Arthur, holding then his court 
Hard on the river nigh the place which now 75 

Is this world's hugest, let proclaim a joust 
At Camelot, and when the time drew nigh 
Spake (for she had been sick) to Guinevere, 
"Are you so sick, my Queen, you can not move 
To these fair jousts?" "Yea, lord," she said, "ye know 
it." 80 

"Then will ye miss," he answer'd, "the great deeds 
Of Lancelot, and his prowess in the lists, 
A sight ye love to look on." And the Queen 
Lifted her eyes, and they dwelt languidly 
On Lancelot, where he stood beside the King. 85 

He thinking that he read her meaning there, 
"Stay with me, I am sick; my love is more 
Than many diamonds," yielded; and a heart. 
Love-loyal to the least wish of the Queen 
(However much he yearn'd to make complete 90 

The tale of diamonds for his destined boon) 
Urged him to speak against the truth, and say, 
"Sir King, m.ine ancient wound is hardly whole. 
And lets me from the saddle;" and the King 



4 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Glanced first at him, then her, and went his way. 95 

No sooner gone than suddenly she began: 

"To blame, my lord Sir Lancelot, much to blame! 
Why go ye not to these fair jousts? the knights 
Are half of them our enemies, and the crowd 
Will murmur, 'Lo, the shameless ones, who take 100 

Their pastime, now the trustful King is gone!'" 
Then Lancelot, vext at having lied in vain: 
"Are ye so wise? ye were not once so wise. 
My Queen, that summer, when ye loved me first. 
Then of the crowd ye took no more account 105 

Than of the myriad cricket of the mead, 
When its own voice clings to each blade of grass, 
And every voice is nothing. As to knights. 
Them surely can I silence with all ease. 
But now my loyal worship is allow'd 110 

Of all men: many a bard, without offence. 
Has link'd our names together in his lay, 
Lancelot, the flov\^er of bravery, Guinevere, 
The pearl of beauty: and our knights at feast 
Have pledged us in this union, while the King 115 

Would listen smiling. How then? is there more? 
Has Arthur spoken aught? or would yourself. 
Now weary of my service and devoir, 
Henceforth be truer to your faultless lord?" 

She broke into a little scornful laugh: 120 

"Arthur, my lord, Arthur, the faultless King, 
That passionate perfection, my good lord — 
But who can gaze upon the sun in heaven? 
He never spake word of reproach to me. 
He never had a glimpse of mine untruth, 125 

He cares not for me: only here to-day 
There gleam'd a vague suspicion in his eyes; 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE O 

Some meddling rogue has tamper'd with him — else 

Rapt in this fancy of his Table Round, 

And swearing men to vows impossible, 130 

To make them like himself: but, friend, to me 

He is all fault who hath no fault at all: 

For who loves me must have a touch of earth; 

The low sun makes the color: I am yours, 

Not Arthur's, as ye know, save by the bond. 135 

And therefore hear my words: go to the jousts: 

The tiny-trumpeting gnat can break our dream 

When sweetest; and the vermin voices here 

May buzz so loud — we scorn them, but they sting." 

Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief of knights: 1 iO 

"And with what face, after my pretext made, 
Shall I appear, O Queen, at Camelot, I 
Before a King who honors his own word. 
As if it were his God's?" 

''Yea," said the Queen, 
"A moral child without the craft to rule, 1 15 

Else had he not lost me: but listen to me. 
If I must find you wit: we hear it said 
That men go down before your spear at a touch, 
But knov\ing you are Lancelot; your great name. 
This conquers: hide it therefore; go unknown: l.Vj 

Win! by this kiss you will: and our true King 
Will then allow your pretext, O my knight. 
As all for glory; for to speak him true. 
Ye know right well, hov/ meek soe'er he seem, 
No keener hunter after glory breathes. 155 

He loves it in his knights more than himself: 
They prove to him his work: win and return." 

Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to horse, 
Wroth at himself. Not willing to be known, 



6 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

He left the barren-beaten thoroiigMare, 160 

Chose the green path that show'd the rarer foot, 

And there among the solitary downs, 

Full often lost in fancy, lost his way; 

Till as he traced a faintly-shadow'd track, 

That all in loops and links among the dales 165 

Ran to the Castle of Astolat, he saw 

Fired from the west, far on a hill, the towers. 

Thither he made, and blew the gateway horn. 

Then came an old, dumb, myriad-wrinkled man. 

Who let him into lodging and disarm'd. 170 

And Lancelot marvell'd at the wordless man; 

And issuing found the Lord of Astolat 

With two strong sons. Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine, 

Moving to meet him in the castle court; 

And close behind them stept the lily maid 175 

Elaine, his daughter: mother of the house 

There was not: some light jest among them rose 

With laughter dying down as the great knight 

Approach'd them: then the Lord of Astolat: 

"Whence comest thou, my guest, and by what name ISO 

Livest between the lips? for by thy state 

And presence I might guess thee chief of those. 

After the King, who eat in Arthur's halls. 

Him have I seen: the rest, his Table Round, 

Known as they are, to me they are unknown." 185 

Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief of knights: 
"Known am I, and of Arthur's hall, and known, 
What I by mere mischance have brought, my shield. 
But since I go to joust as one unknown 
At Camelot for the diamond, ask me not, 190 

Hereafter ye shall know me — and the shield — 
I pray you lend me one, if such you have. 
Blank, or at least with some device not mine." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 7 

Then said the Lord of Astolat, "Here is Torre's: 
Hurt in his first tilt was my son, Sir Torre. 195 

And so, God wot, his shield is blank enough. 
His ye can have." Then added plain Sir Torre, 
"Yea, since I cannot use it, ye may have it." 
Here laugh'd the father saying, "Fie, Sir Churl, 
Is that an answer for a noble knight? 200 

Allow him! but Lavaine, my younger here. 
He is so full of lustihood, he will ride. 
Joust for it, and win, and bring it in an hour. 
And set it in this damsel's golden hair, 
To make her thrice as wilful as before." 205 

"Nay, father, nay, good father, shame me not 
Before this noble knight," said young Lavaine, 
"For nothing. Surely I but pla-y'd on Torre: 
He seem'd so sullen, vext he could not go: 
A jest, no more! for, knight, the maiden dreamt 210 

That some one put this diamond in her hand. 
And that it was too slippery to be held, 
And slipt and fell into sonie pool or stream. 
The castle-well, belike; and then I said 
That // I went and if I fought and won it 215 

(But all was jest and joke among ourselves) 
Then must she keep it safelier. All was jest. 
But, father, give me leave, an if he will. 
To ride to Camelot with this noble knight: 
Win shall I not, but do my best to win: 220 

Young as I am, yet would I do my best." 

"So ye will grace me," answer'd Lancelot, 
Smiling a moment, "with your fellowship 
O'er these waste downs whereon I lost myself, 
Then were I glad of you as guide and friend: 225 



8 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

And you shall win this diamond, — as I hear 

It is a fair large diamond, — if ye may. 

And yield it to this maiden, if ye will." 

"A fair large diamond," added plain Sir Torre, 

"Such be for queens, and not for simple maids." 230 

Then she, who held her eyes upon the ground, 

Elaine, and heard her name so tost about, 

Flush'd slightly at the slight disparagement 

Before the stranger knight, who, looking at her. 

Full courtly, yet not falsely, thus return'd: 2?>'i 

"If what is fair be but for what is fair, 

And only queens are to be counted so. 

Rash were my judgment then, who deem this maid 

Might wear as fair a jewel as is on earth, 

Not violating the bond of like to like." 240 

He spoke and ceased: the lily maid Elaine, 
Won by the mellow voice before she look'd, 
Lifted her ej^es, and read his lineaments. 
The great and guilty love he bare the Queen, 
In battle with the love he bare his lord, 245 

Had marr'd his face, and mark'd it ere his time. 
Another sinning on such heights with one. 
The flower of all the west and all the world, 
Had been the sleeker for it: but in him 
His mood was often like a fiend, and rose 250 

And drove him into wastes and solitudes 
For agony, who was yet a living soul. 
Marr'd as he \\as, he seem'd the goodliest man 
That ever among ladies ate in hall. 

And noblest, when she lifted up her eyes. 255 

However marr'd, of more than twice her years, 
Seam'd with an ancient swordcut on the cheek, 
And bruised and bronzed, she lifted up her eyes 
And loved him, with that love which was her doom. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE U 

Then the great knight, the darling of the court, 260 

Loved of the loveliest, into that rude hall 
Stept with all grace, and not with half-disdain 
Hid under grace, as in a smaller time, 
But kindly man moving among his kind: 
Whom they with meats and vintage of their best 265 

And talk and minstrel melody entertain'd. 
And much they ask'd of court and Table Round, 
And ever well and readily answer'd he: 
But Lancelot, when they glanced at Guinevere, 
Suddenly speaking of the wordless man, 270 

Heard from the Baron that, ten years before, 
The heathen caught and reft him of his tongue. 
"He learnt and warn'd me of their fierce design 
Against my house, and him they caught and maim'd; 
But I, my sons, and little daughter fled 275 

Prom bonds or death, and dwelt among the woods 
By the great river in a boatman's hut. 
Dull days were those, till our good Arthur broke 
The Pagan yet once more on Badon hill." 

"O there, great lord, doubtless," Lavaine said, rapt 280 
By all the sweet and sudden passion of youth 
Toward greatness in its elder, "you have fought. 
O tell us — for we live apart — you know 
Of Arthur's glorious wars." And Lancelot spoke 
And answer'd him at full, as having been 285 

With Arthur in the fight which all day long 
Rang by the white mouth of the violent Glem; 
And in the four loud battles by the shore 
Of Duglas; that on Bassa; then the war 
That thunder'd in and out the gloomy skirts 290 

Of Celidon the forest; and again 
By castle Gurnion, where the glorious King 
Had on his cuirass worn our Lady's Head, 



10 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Carv'd of one emerald center'd in a sun 

Of silver rays, that lighten'd as he breathed; 295 

And at Caerleon had he help'd his lord, 

When the strong neighings of the wild White Horse 

Set every gilded parapet shuddering; 

And up in Agned-Cathregonion too. 

And down the waste sand-shores of Trath Treroit, 300 

Where many a heathen fell; "and on the mount 

Of Bad on I myself beheld the King 

Charge at the head of all his Table Rovmd, 

And all his legions crying Christ and him, 

And break them; and I saw him, after, stand 305 

High on a heap of slain, from spur to plume 

Red as the rising sun with heathen blood. 

And seeing me, with a great voice he cried, 

'They are broken, they are broken!' for the King, 

However mild he seems at home, nor cares 310 

B^or triumph in our mimic wars, the jousts — 

For if his own knight cast him down, he laughs 

Saying his knights are better men than he — 

Yet in this heathen war the fire of God 

Fills him: I never saw his like: there lives 315 

No greater leader." 

While he utter'd this. 
Low to her own heart said the lily maid, 
"Save your great self, fair lord;" and when he fell 
From talk of war to traits of pleasantry — 
Being mirthful he, but in a stately kind — 320 

She still took note that when the living smile 
Died from his lips, across him came a cloud 
Of melancholy severe, from which again. 
Whenever in her hovering to and fro 

The lily maid had striven to make him cheer, 325 

There brake a sudden-beaming tenderness 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 



11 



Of manners and of nature: and she thought 

That all was nature, all, perchance, for her. 

And all night long his face before her lived, 

As when a painter, poring on a face, 330 

Divinely thro' all hindrance finds the man 

Behind it, and so paints him that his face, 

The shape and color of a mind and life. 

Lives for his children, ever at its best 

And fullest; so the face before her lived, 335 

Dark-splendid, speaking in the silence, full 

Of noble things, and held her from her sleep, 

Till rathe she rose, half-cheated in the thought 

She needs must bid farewell to sweet Lavaine. 

First as in fear, step after step, she stole 340 

Down the long tower-stairs, hesitating: 

Anon, she heard Sir Lancelot cry in the court, 

"This shield, my friend, where is it?" and Lavaine 

Past inward, as she came from out the tower. 

There to his proud horse Lancelot turn'd, and smooth'd 345 

The glossy shoulder, humming to himself. 

Half-envious of the flattering hand, she drew 

Nearer and stood. He look'd, and more amazed 

Than if seven men had set upon him, saw 

The maiden standing in the dewy light. 350 

He had not dream'd she was so beautiful. 

Then came on him a sort of sacred fear, 

For silent, tho' he greeted her, she stood 

Rapt on his face as if it were a god's. 

Suddenly flash'd on her a wild desire, 355 

That he should wear her favor at the tilt. 

She braved a riotous heart in asking for it. 

''Fair lord, whose name I know not — noble it is, 

I well believe, the noblest — will you wear 

My favor at this tourney?" "Nay," said he, 360 



12 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

"Fair lady, since I never yet have worn 

Favor of any lady in the lists. 

Such is my wont, as those who know me know." 

"Yea, so," she answer'd; "then in wearing mine 

Needs must be lesser likelihood, noble lord, 365 

That those who know should know you." And he turn'd 

Her counsel up and down within his mind, 

And found it true, and answer'd, "True, my child. 

Well, I will wear it: fetch it out to me: 

What is it?" and she told him "A red sleeve 370 

Broider'd with pearls," and brought it: then he bound 

Her token on his helmet, with a smile 

Saying, "I never yet have done so much 

For any maiden living," and the blood 

Sprang to her face and fill'd her with delight; .3.75 

But left her all the paler, when Lavaine 

Returning brought the yet-unblazon'd shield, 

His brother's; which he gave to Lancelot, 

Who parted with his own to fair Elaine: 

"Do me this grace, my child, to have my shield 380 

In keeping till I come." "A grace to me," 

She answer'd, "twice to-day. I am 3/our squire!" 

Whereat Lavaine said, laughing, "Lily maid. 

For fear our people call you lily maid 

In earnest, let me bring your color back; 385 

Once, twice, and thrice: now get you hence to bed;" 

So kiss'd her, and Sir Lancelot his own hand. 

And thus they moved away: she stay'd a minute. 

Then made a sudden step to the gate, and there — 

Her bright hair blown about the serious face 390 

Yet rosy-kindled with her brother's kiss — 

Paused by the gateway, standing near the shield 

In silence, while she watch'd their arms far-off 

Sparkle, until they dipt below the downs. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 13 

Then to her tower she climb'd, and took the shield, 395 
There kept it, and so lived in fantasy. 

Meanwhile the new companions past away 
Far o'er the long backs of the bushless downs. 
To where Sir Lancelot knew there lived a knight 
Not far from Camelot, now for forty years 400 

A hermit, who had pray'd, labor 'd and pray'd, 
And ever laboring had scoop'd himself, 
In the white rock a chapel and a hall 
On massive columns, like a shorecli'ff cave,. 
And cells and chambers: all were fair and dry; 40.") 

The green light from the meadows underneath 
Struck up and lived along the milky roofs; 
And in the meadows tremulous aspen-trees 
And poplars made a noise of falling showers. 
And thither wending there that night they bode. 410 

But when the next day broke from underground, 
And shot red fire and shadows thro' the cave, 
They rose, heard mass, broke fast, and rode av/ay: 
Then Lancelot saying, "Hear, but hold my name 
Hidden, you ride with Lancelot of the Lake," 415 

Abash'd Lavaine, whose instant reverence, 
Dearer to true young hearts than their own praise, 
But left him leave to stammer, "Is it indeed?" 
And after muttering "The great Lancelot," 
At last he got his breath and answer'd, "One, 420 

One have I seen — that other, our liege lord, 
The dread Pendragon, Britain's King of kings, 
Of whom the people talk mysteriously, 
He will be there — then were I stricken blind 
That minute, I might say that I had seen." 425 

So spake Lavaine, and when they reach'd the lists 
By Camelot in the meadow, let his eyes 



14 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Run thro' the peopled gallery which half round 

Lay like a rainbow fall'n upon the grass, 

Until they found the clear-faced King, who sat 430 

Robed in red samite, easily to be known. 

Since to his crown the golden dragon clung, 

And down his robe the dragon Vv^rithed in gold, 

And from the carven-work behind him crept 

Two dragons gilded, sloping down to make 4?,;") 

Arms for his chair, while all the rest of them 

Thro' knots and loops and folds innumerable 

Fled ever thro' the woodwork, till they found 

The new design wherein they lost themselves. 

Yet with all ease, so tender was the work: 440 

And, in the costly canopy o'er him set. 

Blazed the last diamond of the nameless king. 

Then Lancelot answer'd young Lavaine and said, 
"Me you call great: mine is the firmer seat. 
The truer lance: but there is many a youth 445 

Now crescent, who will come to all I am 
And overcome it; and in me there dwells 
No greatness, save it be some far-off touch 
Of greatness to know well I am not great: 
There is the man." And Lavaine gaped upon him 450 

As on a thing miraculous, and anon 
The trumpets blew; and then did either side, 
They that assail'd, and they that held the lists. 
Set lance in rest, strike spur, suddenly move. 
Meet in the midst, and there so furiously 455 

Shock, that a man far-off might well perceive, 
If any man that day were left afield, 
The hard earth shake, and a low thunder of arms. 
"And Lancelot bode a little, till he saw 
Which were the weaker; then he hurl'd into it 460 

Against the stronger: little need to speak 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 15 

Of Lancelot in his glory! King, duke, earl, 
Count, baron — ^whom he smote, he overthrew. 

But in the field were Lancelot's kith and kin, 
Ranged with the Table Round that held the lists, 465 

Strong men, and wrathful that a stranger knight 
Should do and almost overdo the deeds 
Of Lancelot; and one said to the other, "Lo! 
What is he? I do not mean the force alone — 
The grace and versatility of the man! 470 

Is it not Lancelot?" "When has Lancelot worn 
Favor of any lady in the lists? 
Not such his wont, as we that know him know." 
"How then? who then?" a fury seized them all, 
A fiery family passion for the name 475 

Of Lancelot, and a glory one with theirs. 
They couch'd their spears and prick'd their steeds, and 

thus, 
Their plumes driv'n backward by the wind they made 
In moving, all together down upon him 
Bare, as a wild wave in the wide North Sea, 480 

Green-glimmering toward the summit, bears, with all 
Its stormy crests that smoke against the skies, 
Down on a bark, and overbears the bark. 
And him that helms it, so they overbore 
Sir Lancelot and his charger, and a spear 485 

Down-glancing lamed the charger, and a spear 
Prick'd sharply his own cuirass, and the head 
Pierced thro' his side, and there snapt, and remain'd. 

Then Sir Lavaine did well and worshipfully; 
He bore a knight of old repute to the earth, 400 

And brought his horse to Lancelot where he lay. 
He up the side, sweating with agony, got, 
But thought to do while he might yet endure. 



16 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

And being lustily holpen by the rest, 

His party, — tlio' it seem'd half-miracle 495 

To those he fought with, — drave his kith and kin. 

And all the Table Round that held the lists, 

Back to the barrier; then the trumpets blev/ 

Proclaiming his the prize, who wore the sleeve 

Of scarlet, and the pearls; and all the knights, 500 

His party, cried, "Advance and take thy prize 

The diamond;" but he answer'd, "Diamond me 

No diamonds! for God's love, a little air! 

Prize me no prizes, for my prize is death! 

Hence will I, and I charge you, follow me not." 505 

He spoke, and vanish'd suddenly from the field 
With young Lavaine into the poplar grove. 
There from his charger down he slid, and sat. 
Gasping to Sir Lavaine, "Draw the lance-head:" 
"Ah my sweet lord Sir Lancelot," said Lavaine, 510 

I dread me, if I draw it, you will die." 
But he, "I die already with it: draw — 
Draw," — and Lavaine drew, and Sir Lancelot gave 
A marvellous great shriek and ghastly groan. 
And half his blood burst forth, and down he sank 515 

For the pure pain, and wholly swoon'd away. 
Then came the hermit out and bare him in, 
There stanch'd his wound; and there, in daily doubt 
Whether to live or die, for many a week 
Hid from the wide v>^orld's rumor by the grove 520 

Of poplars with their noise of falling showers. 
And ever-tremulous aspen-trees, he lay. 

But on that day when Lancelot fled the lists. 
His party, knights of utm-ost North and West, 
Lords of waste marches, kings of desolate isles, 525 

Came round their great Pendragon, saying to him, 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 17 

"Lo, Sire, our knight, thro' whom we won the day, 

Hath gone sore wounded, and hath left his prize 

Untaken, crying that his prize is death," 

"Heaven hinder," said the King, "that such an one, 530 

So great a knight as we have seen to-day — 

He seem'd to me another Lancelot, 

Yea, twenty times I thought him Lancelot — 

He must not pass uncared for. Wherefore, rise, 

Gawain, and ride forth and find the knight. 535 
Wounded and wearied needs must he be near. 

1 charge you that you get at once to horse. 

And, knights and kings, there breathes not one of you 

Will deem this prize of ours is rashly given: 

His prowess was too wondrous. We will do him 540 

No customary honor: since the knight 

Came not to us, of us to claim the prize. 

Ourselves will send it after. Rise and take 

This diamond, and deliver it, and return, 

And bring us where he is, and how he fares, 545 

And cease not from your quest until ye find." 

So saying, from the carven flower above. 
To which it made a restless heart, he took. 
And gave, the diamond: then from where he sat 
At Arthur's right, with smiling face arose, 550 

With smiling face and frowning heart, a prince 
In the mid might and flourish of his May, 
Gawain, surnamed The Courteous, fair and strong, 
And after Lancelot, Tristram, and Geraint 
And Gareth, a good knight, but therewithal 555 

Sir Modred's brother, and the child of Lot, 
Nor often loyal to his word, and now 
Wroth that the King's command to sally forth 
In quest of whom he knew not, made him leave 
The banquet, and concourse of knights and kings. 560 



18 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

So all in wrath he got to horse and went; 
While Arthur to the banquet, dark in mood, 
Past, thinking, "Is it Lancelot who hath come 
Despite the wound he spake of, all for gain 
Of glory, and hath added wound to wound, 565 

And ridd'n away to die?" So fear'd the King, 
And, after two days' tarriance there, return'd. 
Then when he saw the Queen, embracing ask'd, 
"Love, are you yet so sick?" "Nay, lord," she said. 
"And where is Lancelot?" Then the Queen amazed, 570 
"Was he not with you? won he not your prize?" 
"Nay, but one like him." "Why that like was he." 
And when the King demanded how she knew. 
Said, "Lord, no sooner had ye parted from us. 
Than Lancelot told me of a common talk 575 

That men went down before his spear at a touch, 
But knowing he was Lancelot; his great name 
Conquer'd; and therefore would he hide his name 
From all men, ev'n the King, and to this end 
Had made the pretext of a hindering wound, 580 

That he might joust unknown of all, and learn 
If his old prowess were in aught decay'd; 
And added, 'Our true Arthur, when he learns. 
Will well allow my pretext, as for gain 
Of purer glory.' " 

Then replied the King: 585 

"Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been, 
In lieu of idly dallying with the truth, 
To have trusted me as he hath trusted thee. 
Surely his King and most familiar friend 
Might well have kept his secret. True, indeed, 590 

Albeit I know my knights fantastical, 
So fme a fear in our large Lancelot 
Must needs have moved my laughter: now remains 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 19 

But little cause for laughter: his own kin — • 

111 news, my Queen, for all who love him, this! — 595 

His kith and kin, not knowing, set upon him; 

So that he went sore wounded from the field: 

Yet good news too: for goodly hopes are mine 

That Lancelot is no more a lonely heart. 

He wore, against his wont, upon his helm 600 

A sleeve of scarlet, broider'd with great pearls, 

Som.e gentle maiden's gift." 

"Yea, lord," she said, 
"Thy hopes are mine," and saying that, she choked, 
And sharply turn'd about to hide her face. 
Past to her chamber, and there flung herself 605 

Down on the great King's coucjh, and writhed upon it. 
And clench'd her fingers till they bit the palm. 
And shriek'd out "Traitor" to the unhearing wall. 
Then flash'd into v.ild tears, and rose again. 
And moved about her palace, proud and pale. 610 

Gawain the while thro' all the region round 
Rode with his diamond, wearied of the quest, 
Touch'd at all points, except the poplar grove, 
And came at last, tho' late, to Astolat: 
Whom glittering in enamell'd arms the maid 615 

Glanced at, and cried, "What news from Camelot, lord? 
What of the knight with the red sleeve?" "He won." 
"I knew it," she said. "But parted from the jousts 
Hurt in the side," whereat she caught her breath; 
Thro' her own side she felt the sharp lance go; 6:30 

Thereon she smote her hand: well-nigh she swoon'd: 
And, while he gazed wonderingly at her, came 
The Lord of Astolat out, to whom the Prince 
Reported who he was, and on what quest 
Sent, that he bore the prize and could not find 625 



20 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

The victor, but had ridd'n a random round 

To seek him, and had wearied of the search. 

To whom the Lord of Astolat, "Bide with us, 

And ride no more at random, noble Prince! 

Here was the knight, and here he left a shield; 630 

This will he send or come for: furthermore 

Our son is with him: we shall hear anon, 

Needs must we hear." To this the courteous Prince 

Accorded with his wonted courtesy. 

Courtesy with a touch of traitor in it, 635 

And stay'd; and cast his eyes on fair Elaine: 

Where could be found face daintier? then her shape 

From forehead down to foot, perfect — again 

From foot to forehead exquisitely turn'd: 

"Well — if I bide, lo! this wild flower for me!" 640 

And oft they met among the garden yews, 

And there he set himself to play upon her 

With sallying wit, free flashes from a height 

Above her, graces of the court, and songs. 

Sighs, and slow smiles, and golden eloquence 645 

And amorous adulation, till the maid 

Rebell'd against it, saying to him, "Prince, 

loyal nephew of our noble King, 

Why ask you not to see the shield he left, 
Whence you might learn his name? Why slight your 
King, 650 

And lose the quest he sent you on, and prove 
No surer than our falcon yesterday. 
Who lost the hern we slipt her at, and went 
To all the winds?" "Nay, by mine head," said he, 

1 lose it, as we lose the lark in heaven, 655 
O damsel, in the light of your blue eyes; 

But an ye will it let me see the shield." 

And when the shield was brought, and Gawain saw 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 21 

Sir Lancelot's azure lions, crown'd with gold, 

Ramp in the field, he smote his thigh, and mock'd: 660 

"Right was the King! our Lancelot! that true man!" 

"And right was I," she answer'd merrily, "I, 

Who dream'd my knight the greatest knight of all." 

"And if / dream'd," said Gawain, "that you love 

This greatest knight, your pardon! lo, ye know it! 665 

Speak therefore: shall I waste myself in vain?" 

Full simple was her answer, "What know I? 

My brethren have been all my fellowship; 

And I, when often they have talk'd of love, 

Wish'd it had been my mother, for they talk'd, 670 

Meseem'd, of what they knew not; so myself — 

I know not if I know what true love is, 

But if I know, then, if I love not him, 

I know there is none other I can love." 

"Yea, by God's death," said he, "ye love him well, 675 

But would not, knew ye what all others know. 

And whom he loves." "So be it," cried Elaine, 

And lifted her fair face and moved away: 

But he pursued her, calling, "Stay a little! 

One golden minute's grace! he wore your sleeve: 680 

Would he break faith with one I may not name? 

Must our true man change like a leaf at last? 

Nay — like enow: why then, far be it from me 

To cross our mighty Lancelot in his loves! 

And, damsel, for I deem you know full well 685 

Where your great knight is hidden, let me leave 

My quest with you; the diamond also: here! 

For if you love, it will be sweet to give it; 

And if he love, it will be sweet to have it 

From your own hand; and whether he love or not, 690 

A diamond is a diamond. Fare you well 

A thousand times! — a thousand times farewell! 



22 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Yet, if he love, and his love hold, we two 

May meet at court hereafter: there, I think. 

So ye will learn the courtesies of the court, 695 

We two shall know each other." 

Then he gave. 
And slightly kiss'd the hand to which he gave, 
The diamond, and all wearied of the quest 
Leapt on his horse, and carolling as he went 
A true-love ballad, lightly rode away. 700 

Thence to the court he past; there told the King 
What the King knew, "Sir Lancelot is the knight." 
And added, "Sire, my liege, so much I learnt; 
But fail'd to find him tho' I rode all round 
The region: but I lighted on the maid 705 

Whose sleeve he wore; she loves him; and to her. 
Deeming our courtesy is the truest law, 
I gave the diamond: she will render it; 
For by mine head she knows his hiding-place." 

The seldom-frowning King frown'd, and replied, 710 

"Too courteous truly! ye shall go no more 
On quest of mine, seeing that ye forget 
Obedience is the courtesy due to kings." 

He spake and parted. Wroth, but all in awe, 
For twenty strokes of the blood, without a word, 715 

Linger'd that other, staring after him; 
Then shook his hair, strode off, and buzz'd abroad 
About the maid of Astolat, and her love. 
All ears were prick'd at once, all tongues were loosed: 
"The maid of Astolat loves Sir Lancelot, 720 

Sir Lancelot loves the maid of Astolat." 
Some read the King's face, some the Queen's, and all 
Had marvel what the maid might be, but most 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 23 

Predoom'd her as unworthy. One old dame 

Came suddenly on the Queen with the sharp news. 725 

She, that had heard the noise of it before. 

But sorrowing Lancelot should have stoop'd so low, 

Marr'd her friend's aim with pale tranquillity. 

So ran the tale like tire about the court, 

Fire in dry stubble a nine-days' wonder flared: 730 

Till ev'n the knights at banquet twice or thrice 

Forgot to drink to Lancelot and the Queen, 

And pledging Lancelot and the lily maid 

Smiled at each other, while the Queen, who sat 

With lips severely placid, felt the knot 735 

Climb in her throat, and with her feet unseen 

Crush'd the wild passion out against the floor 

Beneath the banquet, where the meats became 

As wormwood, and she hated all who pledged. 

But far away the maid in Astolat, 740 

Her guiltless rival, she that ever kept 
The one-day-seen Sir Lancelot in her heart, 
Crept to her father, while he mused alone, 
Sat on his knee, stroked his gray face and said, 
"Father, you call me wilful, and the fault 745 

Is yours who let me have my will, and now, 
Sweet father, will you let me lose my wits?" 
"Nay," said he, "surely." "Wherefore, let me hence," 
She answer'd, "and find out our dear Lavaine." 
"Ye will not lose your wits for dear Lavaine: 750 

Bide," answer'd he: "we nee.ds must hear anon 
Of him and of that other." "Ay," she said, 
"And of that other, for I needs must hence 
And find that other, wheresoe'er he be. 

And with mine own hand give his diamond to him, 755 

Lest I be found as faithless in the quest 
As yon proud Prince who left the quest to me. 



24 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Sweet father, I behold him in my dreams 

Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself, 

Death-pale, for lack of gentle maiden's aid. 760 

The gentler-born the maiden, the more bound, 

My father, to be sweet and serviceable 

To noble knights in sickness, as ye know, 

When these have worn their tokens: let me hence 

I pray yon." Then her father nodding said, 765 

"Ay, ay, the diamond: wit ye well, my child, 

R,ight fain were I to learn this knight were whole, 

Being our greatest: yea, and you must give it — 

And sure I think this fruit is hung too high 

For any mouth to gape for save a queen's — 770 

Nay, I mean nothing: so then, get you gone. 

Being so very wilful you must go." 

Lightly, her suit allow'd, she slipt away. 
And while she made her ready for her ride, 
Her father's latest word humm'd in her ear, 775 

"Being so very wilful you must go," 
And changed itself and echo'd in her heart, 
"Being so very wilful you must die." 
But she was happy enough and shook it off, 
As we shake off the bee that buzzes at us; 780 

And in her heart she answer'd it and said, 
"What matter, so I help him back to life?" 
Then far away with good Sir Torre for guide 
Rode o'er the long backs of the bushless downs 
To Camelot, and before the* city-gates 785 

Came on her brother with a happy face 
Making a roan horse caper and curvet 
For pleasure all about a field of flowers: 
Whom when she saw, "Lavaine," she cried, "Lavaine, 
How fares my lord Sir Lancelot?" He amazed, 790 

"Torre and Elaine! why here? Sir Lancelot! 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 25 

How know ye my lord's name is Lancelot?" 

But when the maid had told him all her tale, 

Then turn'd Sir Torre, and being in his moods 

Left them, and under the strange-statued gate, 793 

Where Arthur's wars were render'd mystically, 

Past up the still rich city to his kin, 

His own far blood, which dwelt at Camelot; 

And her, Lavaine across the poplar grove 

Led to the caves: there first she saw the casque 800 

Of Lancelot on the wall: her scarlet sleeve, 

Tho' carved and cut, and half the pearls away, 

Stream'd from it still; and in her heart she laugh'd, 

Because he had not loosed it from his helm, 

But meant once more perchance to tourney in it. 805 

And when they gain'd the cell wherein he slept. 

His battle-writben arms and mighty hands 

Lay naked on the wolfskin, and a dream 

Of dragging down his enemy made them move. 

Then she that saw him lying unsleek, unshorn, 810 

Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself, 

Utter'd a little tender dolorous cry. 

The sound not wonted in a place so still 

Woke the sick knight, and while he roll'd his eyes 

Yet blank from sleep, she started to him, saying, S15 

"Your prize the diamond sent you by the King:" 

His eyes glisten'd: she fancied, "Is it for me?" 

And when the maid had told him all the tale 

Of King and Prince, the diamond sent, the quest 

Assign'd to her not worthy of it, she knelt 820 

Full lowly by the corners of his bed. 

And laid the diamond in his open hand. 

Her face was near, and as we kiss the child 

That does the task assign'd, he kiss'd her face. 

At once she slipt like water to the floor. 825 



26 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

"Alas," he said, "your ride hath wearied you. 

Rest must you have." "No rest for me," she said; 

"Nay, for near you, fair lord, I am at rest." 

What might she mean by that? his large black eyes, 

Yet larger thro' his leanness, dwelt upon her, 830 

Till all her heart's sad secret blazed itself 

In the heart's colors on her simple face; 

And Lancelot look'd and was perplext in mind. 

And being weak in body said no more, 

But did not love the color; woman's love, 835 

Save one, he not regarded, and so turn'd 

Sighing, and feign'd a sleep until he slept. 

Then rose Elaine and glided thro' the fields, 
And past beneath the weirdly-sculptured gates 
Far up the dim rich city to her kin; 840 

There bode the night: but woke with dawn, and past 
Down thro' the dim rich ci,ty to the fields, 
Thence to the cave: so day by day she past 
In either twilight ghost-like to and fro 

Gliding, and every day she tended him, 845 

And likewise many a night: and Lancelot 
Would, tho' he call'd his wound a little hurt 
Whereof he should be quickly whole, at times 
Brain-feverous in his heat and agony, seem 
Uncourteous, even he: but the meek maid 850 

Sweetly forbore him ever, being to him 
Meeker than any child to a rough nurse. 
Milder than any mother to a sick child. 
And never woman yet, since man's first fall. 
Did kindlier unto man, but her deep love 855 

Upbore her; till the hermit, skill'd in all 
The simples and the science of that time. 
Told him that her fine care had saved his life. 
And the sick man forgot her simple blush. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 27 

Would call her friend and sister, sweet Elaine, 860 

Would listen for her coming and regret 

Her parting step, and held her tenderly, 

And loved her with all love except the love 

Of man and woman when they love their best. 

Closest and sweetest, and had died the death 865 

In any knightly fashion for her sake. 

And peradventure had he seen her first 

She might have made this and that other world 

Another world for the sick man; but now 

The shackles of an old love straiten'd him, 870 

His honor rooted in dishonor stood, 

And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true. 

Yet the great knight in his mid-sickness made 
Full many a holy vow and pure resolve. 
These, as but born of sickness, could not live: 875 

For when the blood ran lustier in him again. 
Full often the bright image of one face, 
Making a treacherous quiet in his heart. 
Dispersed his resolution like a cloud. 

Then if the maiden, while "that ghostly grace 880 

Beam'd on his fancy, spoke, he answer'd not^ 
Or short and coldly, and she knew right well 
What the rough sickness meant, but what this meant 
She knew not, and the sorrow dimm'd her sight. 
And drave her ere her time across the fields 885 

Far into the rich city, where alone 
She murmur'd, ''Vain, in vain: it cannot be. 
He will not love me: how then? m^ust I die?" 
Then as a little helpless innocent bird, 
That has but one plain passage of few notes, 890 

Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er 
For all an April morning, till the ear 
Wearies to hear it, so the simple maid 



28 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Went half the night repeating, "Must I die?" 

And now to right she turn'd, and now to left, 895 

And found no ease in turning or in rest; 

And "Him or death," she mutter'd, "death or him," 

Again and like a burthen, "Him or death." 

But when Sir Lancelot's deadly hurt was whole, 
To Astolat returning rode the three. 903 

There morn by morn, arraying her sweet self 
In that wherein she deem'd she look'd her best, 
She came before Sir Lancelot, for she thought 
"If I be loved, these are my festal robes. 
If not, the victim's flowers before he fall." 905 

And Lancelot ever prest upon the maid 
That she should ask some goodly gift of him 
For her own self or hers; "and do not shun 
To speak the wish most near to your true heart; 
Such service have ye done me, that I make 910 

My will of yours, and prince and lord am I 
In mine own land, and what I will I can." 
Then like a ghost she lifted up her face, 
But like a ghost without the power to speak. 
And Lancelot saw that she withheld her wish, 915 

And bode among them yet a little space 
Till he should learn it; and one morn it chanced 
He found her in among the garden yews, 
And said, "Delay no longer, speak your wish. 
Seeing I go to-day:" then out she brake: 920 

"Going? and we shall never see you more. 
And I must die for want of one bold word." 
"Speak: that I live to hear," he said, "is yours." 
Then suddenly and passionately she spoke: 
"I have gone mad. I love you: let me die." 925 

"Ah, sister," answer'd Lancelot, "what is this?" 
And Innocently extending her white arms, 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 29 

"Your love," she said, "your love — to be your wife." 
And Lancelot answer'd, "Had I chosen to wed, 
I had been wedded earlier, sweet Elaine: 930 

But now there never will be wife of mine," 
"No, no," she cried, "I care not to be wife. 
But to be with you still, to see your face^ 
To serve you, and to follow you thro' the world." 
And Lancelot ansv/er'd, "Nay, the world, the world, <)?,:) 
All ear and eye, with such a stupid heart 
To interpret ear and eye, and such a tongue 
To blare its own interpretation — nay. 
Full ill then should I quit your brother's love. 
And your good father's kindness." And she said, 940 

"Not to be with you, not to see your face- 
Alas for me then, my good days are done." 
"Nay, noble maid," he answer'd, "ten times nay! 
This is not love: but love's first flash in youth, 
Most common: yea, I know it of mine own self: 945 

And you yourself will smile at your own self 
Hereafter, when you yield your flower of life 
To one more fitly yours, not thrice your age: 
And then will I, for true you are and sweet 
Beyond mine old belief in womanhood, 950 

More specially should your good knight be poor. 
Endow you with broad land and territory 
Even to the half my realm beyond the seas, 
So that would make you happy: furthermore, 
Ev'n to the death, as tho' ye were my blood, 955 

In all your quarrels will I be your knight. 
This will I do, dear damsel, for your sake, 
And more than this I cannot." 

While he spoke 
She neither blush'd nor shook, but deathly-pale 
Stood grasping what was nearest, then replied: 960 



30 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

"Of all this will I nothing;" and so fell, 

And thus they bore her swooning to her tower. 

Then spake, to whom thro' those black walls of yew 
Their talk had pierced, her father: "Ay, a flash, 
I fear me, that will strike my blossom dead. 965 

Too courteous are ye, fair Lord Lancelot. 
I pray you, use some rough discourtesy 
To blunt or break her passion." 

Lancelot said, 
"That were against me: what I can I will;" 
And there that day remain'd, and toward even 070 

Sent for his shield: full meekly rose the maid, 
Stript off the case, and gave the naked shield; 
Then, when she heard his horse upon the stones. 
Unclasping flung the casement back, and look'd 
Down on his helm, from which her sleeve had gone. 975 
And Lancelot knew the little clinking sound; 
And she by tact of love was well aware 
That Lancelot knew that she was looking at him. 
And yet he glanced not up, nor waved his hand. 
Nor bade farewell, but sadly rode away. 980 

This was the one discourtesy that he used. 

So in her tower alone the maiden sat: 
His very shield was gone; only the case, 
Her own poor work, her empty labor, left. 
But still she heard him, still his picture form'd 9S5 

And grew between her and the pictured wall. 
Then came her father, saying in low tones, 
"Have comfort," whom she greeted quietly. 
Then came her brethren saying, "Peace to thee, 
Sweet sister," whom she answer'd with all calm. 991 

But when they left her to herself again. 
Death, like a friend's voice from a distant field 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 31 

Approaching thro' the darkness, call'd; the owls 
Wailing had power upon her, and she mixt 
Her fancies with the sallow-rifted glooms 995 

Of evening, and the moanings of the wind. 

And in those days she made a little song. 
And call'd her song "The Song of Love and Death," 
And sang it: sweetly could she make and sing. 

"Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain; 1000 

And sweet is death who puts an end to pain: 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

"Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: 
Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me. 

Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. 1005 

"Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away, 
Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, 

1 know not which is sweeter, no, not L 

"I fain would follow love, if that could be; 
I needs must follow death,. who calls for me; 1010 

Call and I follow, I follow! let me die." 

High with the last line scaled her voice, and this. 
All in a fiery dawning wild with wind 
That shook her tow^er, the brothers heard, and thought 
With shuddering, "Hark the Phantom of the house 1015 
That ever shrieks before a death," and call'd 
The father, and all three in hurry and fear 
Ran to her, and lo! the blood-red light of dawn 
Flared on her face, she shrilling, "Let me die!" 

As when we dwell upon a word v/e know, 1020 

Repeating, till the word we know so well 
Becomes a wonder, and we know not why, 



32 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

So dwelt the father on her face, and thought, 

"Is this Elaine?" till back the maiden fell, 

Then gave a languid hand to each, and lay, 1025 

Speaking a still good-morrow with her eyes. 

At last she said, "Sweet brothers, yester night 

I seem'd a curious little maid again, 

As happy as when we dwelt among the woods, 

And when ye used to take me with the flood 1030 

Up the great river in the boatman's boat. 

Only ye would not pass beyond the cape 

That has the poplar on it: there ye fixt 

Your limit, oft returning with the tide. 

And yet I cried because ye would not pass 1035 

Beyond it, and far up the shining flood 

Until we found the palace of the King. 

And yet ye would not; but this night I dream'd 

That I was all alone upon the flood. 

And then I said, 'Now shall I have my will:' 1040 

And there I woke, but still the wish remain'd. 

So let me hence that I may pass at last 

Beyond the poplar and far up the flood, 

Until I find the palace of the King. 

There will I enter in among them all, 1045 

And no man there will dare to mock at me; 

But there the fine Gawain will wonder at me. 

And there the great Sir Lancelot muse at me; 

Gawain, who bade a thousand farewells to me, 

Lancelot, who coldly went nor bade me one: 1050 

And there the King will know me and my love, 

And there the Queen herself will pity me. 

And all the gentle court will welcome me, 

And after my long voyage I shall rest!" 

"Peace," said her father, "O my child, ye seem 1055 

Light-headed, for what force is yours to go 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 33 

So far, being sick? and wherefore would ye look 
On this proud fellow again, who scorns us all?" 

Then the rough Torre began to heave and move. 
And bluster into stormy sobs and say, 1060 

"I never loved him: an I meet with him, 
I care not howsoever great he be. 
Then will I strike at him and strike him down, 
Give me good fortune, I will strike him dead, 
For this discomfort he hath done the house." 1065 

To whom the gentle sister made reply, 
"Fret not yourself, dear brother, nor be wroth, 
Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault 
Not to love me, than it is mine to love 
Him of all men who seems to me the highest." 1070 

"Highest?" the father answer'd, echoing "highest?" 
(He meant to break the passion in her) "nay, 
Daughter, I know not what you call the highest; 
But this I know, for all the people know it, 
He loves the Queen, and in an open shame: 1075 

And she returns his love in open shame; 
If this be high, what is it to be low?" 

Then spake the lily maid of Astolat: 
"Sweet father, all too faint and sick am I 
For anger: these are slanders: never yet 1080 

Was noble man but made ignoble talk. 
He makes no friend who never made a foe. 
But now it is my glory to have loved 
One peerless, without stain: so let me pass, 
My father, howsoe'er I seem to you, 1085 

Not all unhappy, having loved God's best 
And greatest, tho' my love had no return: 
Yet, seeing you desire your child to live, 



34 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Thanks, but you work against your own desire; 

For if I could believe the things you say 1090 

I should but die the sooner; wherefore cease, 

Sweet father, and bid call the ghostly man 

Hither, and let me shrive me clean, and die." 

So when the ghostly man had come and gone. 
She with a face, bright as for sin forgiven, 1095 

Besought Lavaine to write as she devised 
A letter, word for word: and when he ask'd 
"Is it for Lancelot, is it for my dear lord? 
Then will I bear it gladly;" she replied, 
"For Lancelot and the Queen and all the world, iioo 

But I myself must bear it." Then he wrote 
Tlie letter she devised; which being writ 
And folded, "O sweet father, tender and true. 
Deny me not," she said — "ye never yet 
Denied my fancies — 'this, however strange, ii05 

My latest: lay the letter in my hand 
A little ere I die, and close the hand 
Upon it; I shall guard it even in death. 
And when the heat is gone from out my heart. 
Then take the little bed on which I died mo 

For Lancelot's love, and deck it like the Queen's 
For richness, and me also like the Queen 
In all I have of rich, and lay me on it. 
And let there be prepared a chariot-bier 
To take me to the river, and a barge 1115 

Be ready on the river, clothed in black. 
I go in state to court, to meet the Queen. 
There surely I shall speak for mine own self, 
And none of you can speak for me so v/ell. 
And therefore let our dumb old man alone 1120 

Go with me, he can steer and row, and he 
Will guide me to that palace, to the doors," 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 35 

She ceased: her father promised; whereupon 
She grew so cheerful that they deem'd her death 
Was rather in the fantasy than the blood. 1125 

But ten slow mornings past, and on the eleventh 
Her father laid the letter in her hand, 
And closed the hand upon it, and she died. 
So that day there was dole in Astolat. 

But when the next sun brake from underground, 11 30 
Then, those two brethren slowly with bent brows. 
Accompanying the sad chariot-bier, 
Past like a shadow thro' the field, that shone 
Full-summer, to that stream whereon the barge, 
Pall'd all its length in blackest samite, lay. 1135 

There sat the lifelong creature of the house, 
Loj^al. the dumb old servitor, on deck, 
Winking his eyes, and twisted all his face. 
So those two brethren from the chariot took 
And on the black decks laid her in her bed, 1140 

Set in her hand a lily, o'er her hung 
The silken case with braided blazonings. 
And kiss'd her quiet brows, and saying to her, 
"Sister, farewell for ever," and again, 

"Farewell, sweet sister," parted all in tears. 1145 

Then rose the dumb old servitor, and the dead, 
Oar'd by the dumb, went upward with the flood — 
In her right hand the lily, in her left 
The letter — all her bright hair streaming down — 
And all the coverlid was cloth of gold 1150 

Drawn to her waist, and she herself in white 
All but her face, and that clear-featured face 
Was lovely, for she did not seem as dead. 
But fast asleep, and lay as tho' she smiled. 

That day Sir Lancelot at the palace craved 1155 

Audience of Guinevere, to give at last 



36 LAN'CELOT AND ELAINE 

The price of half a realm, his costly gift, 

Hard-won and hardly won with bruise and blow, 

With deaths of others, and almost his own, 

The nine-years-fought-for diamonds: for he saw 1160 

One of her house, and sent him to the Queen 

Bearing his wish, whereto the Queen agreed 

With such and so unmoved a majesty 

She might have seem'd her statue, but that he, 

Low-drooping till he well nigh Idss'd her feet- 1165 

For loyal av/e, saw with a sidelong eye 

The shadow of some piece of pointed lace, 

In the Queen's shadow, vibrate on the walls. 

And parted, laughing in his courtly heart. 

All in an oriel on the summer side, 1170 

Vine-clad, of Arthur's palace toward the stream, 
They met, and Lancelot kneeling utter'd, "Queen, 
Lady, my liege, in whom I have my joy, 
Take, what I had not won except for you, 
These jewels, and make me happy, making them ii75 

An armlet for the roundest arm on earth, 
Or necklace for a neck to which the swan's 
Is tawnier than her cygnet's: these are words: 
Your beauty is your beauty, and I sin 

In speaking, yet O grant my worship of it 1180 

Words, as we grant grief tears. Such sin in words 
Perchance, we both can pardon: but, my Queen, 
I hear of rumors flying thro' your court. 
Our bond, as not the bond of man and wife. 
Should have in it an absoluter trust 1185 

To make up that defect: let rumors be: 
When did not rumors fly? these, as I trust 
That you trust me in your own nobleness, 
I may not well believe that you believe." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 37 

While thus he spoke, half turn'd away, the Queen iioo 
Brake from the vast oriel-embowering vine 
Leaf after leaf, and tore, and cast them off, 
Till all the place whereon she stood was green; 
Then, when he ceased, in one cold passive hand 
Received at once and laid aside the gems 1195 

There on a table near her, and replied: 

"It may be I am quicker of belief 
Than you believe me, Lancelot of the Lake. 
Our bond is not the bond of man and wife. 
This good is in it, whatsoe'er of ill, 1200 

It can be broken easier. I for you 
This many a year have done despite and wrong 
To one whom ever in my heart of hearts 
I did acknovviedge nobler. What are these? 
Diamonds for me! they had been thrice their worth 1205 
Being your gift, had you not lost your own. 
To loyal hearts the value of all gifts 
Must vary as the giver's. Not for me! 
For her! for your new fancy. Only this 
Grant me, I pray you: have your joys apart. 1210 

I doubt not that however changed, you keep 
So much of what is graceful: and myself 
Would shun to break those bounds of courtesy 
In which as Arthur's Queen I move and rule: 
So cannot speak my mind. An end to this! 1215 

A strange one! yet I take it with Amen. 
So pray you, add my diamonds to her pearls; 
Deck her with these; tell her she shines me down: 
An armlet for an arm to which the Queen's 
Is haggard, or a necklace for a neck 1220 

O as much fairer — as a faith once fair 
Was richer than these diamonds — hers not mine — 
Nay, by the mother of our Lord himself. 



38 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Or hers or mine, mine now to work my will — 
She shall not have them." 

Saying which she seized, 1325 
And, thro' the casement standing wide for heat. 
Flung them, and down they flash'd, and smote the stream. 
Then from the smitten surface flash'd, as it were. 
Diamonds to meet them, and they past away. 
Then while Sir Lancelot leant, in half disdain 1230 

At love, life, all things, on the window ledge, 
Close underneath his eyes, and right across 
Where these had fallen, slowly past the barge 
Whereon the lily maid of Astolat 
Lay smiling, like a star in blackest night. i23.j 

But the wild Queen, who saw not, burst away 
To weep and wail in secret; and the barge, 
On to the palace-doorway sliding, paused. 
There two stood arm'd, and kept the door; to whom. 
All up the marble stair, tier over tier, 1240 

Were added mouths that gaped, and eyes that ask'd, 
"What is it?" but that oarsman's haggard face, 
As hard and still as is the face that men 
Shape to their fancy's eye from broken rocks 
On some clif£-side, appall'd them, and they said, 1245 

"He is enchanted, cannot speak — and she, 
Look how she sleeps — the Fairy Queen, so fair! 
Yea, but how pale! what are they? flesh and blood? 
Or come to take the King to Fairyland? 
For some do hold our Arthur cannot die, 1250 

But that he passes into Fairyland." 

While thus they babbled of the King, the King 
Came girt with knights: then turn'd the tongueless man 
From the half-face to the full eye, and rose 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 39 

And pointed to the damsel, and the doors. 1255 

So Arthur bade the meek Sir Percivale 

And pure Sir Galahad to uplift the maid; 

And reverently they bore her into hall. 

Then came the fine Gawain and wonder'd at her, 

And Lancelot later came and mused at her, 1260 

And last the Queen herself and pitied her: 

But Arthur spied the letter in her hand, 

Stoopt, took, brake seal, and read it: this was all: 

"Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, 
I, sometime call'd the maid of Astolat, 3 265 

Come, for you left me taking no farewell. 
Hither, to take my last farewell of you. 
I loved you, and my love had no return, 
And therefore my true love has been my death. 
And therefore to our Lady Guinevere, 1270 

And to all other ladies, 1 make moan: 
Pray for my soul, and yield me burial. 
Pray for my soul thou too. Sir Lancelot, 
As thou art a knight peerless." 

Thus he read; 
And ever in the reading, lords and dames 1275 

Wept, looking often from his face who read 
To hers which lay so silent, and at times. 
So touch'd were they, half-thinking that her lips, 
Who had devised the letter, moved again. 

Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all: 1280 

"My lord liege Arthur, and all ye that hear, 
Know that for this most gentle maiden's death 
Right heavy am I; for good she was and true. 
But loved me with a love beyond all love 
In women, whomsoever I have known. 1285 

Yet to be loved makes not to love again; 



40 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Not at my years, however it hold in youth. 

I swear by truth and knighthood that I gave 

No cause, not willingly, for such a love: 

To this I call my friends in testimony, 1290 

Her brethren, and her father, who himself 

Besought me to be plain and blunt, and use. 

To break her passion, some discourtesy 

Against my nature: what I could, I did. 

I left her, and I bade her no farewell; 1295 

Tho', had I dreamt the damsel would have died, 

I might have put my wits to some rough use. 

And help'd her from herself." 

Then said the Queen 
(Sea was her wrath, yet working after storm), 
"Ye might at least have done her so much grace, 1300 

Fair lord, as would have help'd her from her death." 
He raised his head, their eyes met and hers fell. 
He adding, "Queen, she would not be content 
Save that I wedded her, which could not be. 
Then might she follow me thro' the world, she ask'd; 1305 
It could not be. I told her that her love 
Was but the flash of youth, would darken down 
To rise hereafter in a stiller flame 
Toward one more worthy of her — then would I, 
More specially were he, she wedded, poor, 1310 

Estate them with large land and territory 
In mine own realm beyond the narrow seas, 
To keep them in all joyance: more than this 
I could not; this she would not, and she died." 

He pausing, Arthur answer'd, "O my knight, 1315 

It will be to thy worship, as my knight, 
And mine, as head of all our Table Round, 
To see that she be buried worshipfully." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 41 

So toward that shrine which then in all the realm 
Was richest, Arthur leading, slowly went 1320 

The marshall'd Order of their Table Round, 
And Lancelot sad beyond his wont, to see 
The maiden buried, not as one unknown. 
Nor meanly, but with gorgeous obsequies. 
And mass, and rolling music, like a queen. 1325 

And, when the knights had laid her comely head 
Lov/ in the dust of half -for gotten kings, 
Then Arthur spake among them, "Let her tomb 
Be costly, and her image thereupon. 
And let the shield of Lancelot at her feet 
Be carven, and her lily in her hand. 
And let the story of her dolorous voyage 
For all true hearts be blazon'd on her tomb 
In letters gold and azure!" which was wrought 
Thereafter; but, when now the lords and dames 
And people, from the high door streaming, brake 
Disorderly, as homeward each, the Queen, 
Who mark'd Sir Lancelot where he moved apart, 
Drew near, and sigh'd in passing, "Lancelot, 
Forgive me; mine was jealousy in love." 1340 

He answer'd with his eyes upon the ground, 
"That is love's curse; pass on, my Queen, forgiven." 
But Arthur, who beheld his cloudy brows, 
Approach'd him, and with full affection said, 

"Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in whom I have 
Most joy and most affiance, for I know 
What thou hast been in battle by my side, 
And many a time have watch'd thee at the tilt 
Strike down the lusty and long-practised knight. 
And let the younger and unskill'd go by 
To win his honor and to make his name. 
And loved thy courtesies and thee, a man 



1330 



1335 



1345 



1350 



42 LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Made to be loved; but now I would to God, 
Seeing the homeless trouble in thine eyes, 
Thou couldst have loved this maiden, shaped, it 

seems, 1355 

By God for thee alone, and from her face, 
if one may judge the living by the dead, 
Delicately pure and marvellously fair, 
Who might have brought thee, now a lonely man. 
Wifeless and heirless, noble issue, sons 13G0 

Born to the glory of thy name and fame, 
My knight, the great Sir Lancelot of the Lake." 

Then answer'd Lancelot, ''B^air she was, my King, 
Pure, as you ever wish your knights to be. 
To doubt her fairness were to want an eye, 1365 

To doubt her pureness were to want a heart — 
Yea, to be loved, if v/hat is worthy love 
Could bind him, but free love will not be bound." 

"Free love, so bound, were freest," said the King. 
"Let love be free; free love is for the best: i:',70 

And, after heaven, on our dull side of death, 
What should be best, if not so pure a love 
Clothed in so pure a loveliness? yet thee 
She fail'd to bind, tho' being, as I think, 
LTnbound as yet, and gentle, as I know." 1375 

And Lancelot answer'd nothing, but he went. 
And at the inrunning of a little brook 
Sat by the river in a cove, and watch'd 
The high reed wave, and lifted up his eyes 
And saw the barge that brought her moving down, ];;so 
Par-off, a blot upon the stream, and said 
Low in himself, "Ah simple heart and sweet. 
Ye loved me, damsel, surely with a love 
Far tenderer than my Queen's. Pray for thy soul? 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 43 

Ay, that will I. Farewell too — now at last — 1385 

Farewell, fair lily. 'Jealousy in love?' 

Not rather dead love's harsh heir, jealous pride? 

Queen, if I grant the jealousy as of love, 

May not your crescent fear for name and fame 

Speak, as it waxes, of a love that wanes? 1390 

Why did the King dwell on my name to me? 

Mine own name shames me, seeming a reproach, 

Lancelot, whom the Lady of the Lake 

Caught from his mother's arms — the wondrous one 

Who passes thro' the vision of the night — 1395 

She chanted snatches of mysterious hymns 

Heard on the Avinding waters, eve and morn 

She kiss'd me saying, 'Thou art fair, my child. 

As a king's son,' and often in her arms 

She bare me, pacing on the dusky mere. 1400 

Would she had drown'd me in it, where'er it be! 

For what am I? what profits me my name 

Of greatest knight? I fought for it, and have it: 

Pleasure to have it, none; to lose it, pain; 

Now grown a part of me: but what use in it? 1405 

To make men worse by making my sin known? 

Or sin seem less, the sinner seeming great? 

Alas for Arthur's greatest knight, a man 

Not after Arthur's heart! T needs must break 

These bonds that so defame me: not without 1410 

She wills it: would I, if she will'd it? nay. 

Who knows? but if I would not, then may God, 

I pray him, send a sudden angel down 

To seize me by the hair and bear me far. 

And fling me deep in that forgotten mere, 1415 

Among the tumbled fragments of the hills." 

So groan'd Sir Lancelot in remorseful pain. 
Not knowing he should die a holy man. 



NOTES 

1. Blaine the fair. Malory's Elaiue le blank, i. e. hlanche or 
white, the Fair Maid of Astolot. Epithets like le Blank are very 
common in mediaeval chivalric and romantic literature, cf. Isolt 
of the White Hands, Balin the Savage, Sagramour the Desirous, 
Ozanna of the Hardj' Heart, Gawain the Courteous. 

2. Astolat. "A towne called Astolot, that is now in Englyssh 
called Gylford." (Malory.) Malory identifies Astolat with Guild- 
ford In Surrey southeast of London, and situated on a tributary 
of the Thames above London. Tennyson's Astolat, while on the 
Thames, is not above but below London (11.103G, 1147). The 
name is also spelled Ascolat, Ascalot, Scalot, etc., whence the 
Anglicized Shalott of Tennyson's early lyric on the theme of 
Elaine, which should be read in connection with the Idyll, The 
Lady of Shalott. 

4. Lancelot. For his place in Arthurian legend, cf. Introd. 
Tennyson tells the story of his childhood, 11.1393-1400, cf. note 
on This passage. Malory's spelling of the name is Launcelot, 
which is that followed in the poems of William Morris and of 
Richard Hovey. Tennyson used it in his early lyric, Sir Launcelot 
and Queen Ouinevere, 1842, and in the 1857 Enid and Nimue. 
Later he modified the latter cases to Lancelot. The latter is the 
standard form, Launcelot the Anglo-Norman, -an in Anglo-Norman 
often passing into -aim, as Fraunee, graunt, etc. 

7. soilure. Poetical. Cf. Shakespeare, Troileus and Cressida, 
IV; i, 56. 

8. case. The suggestion of the case for Lancelot's shield came 
perhaps from Malory, XVIII, 14, "Soo whan the sheld was comen 
Sir Gawayn took of the caas." 

braided. Here — hroidcd, i. e. hroidcred or emhroidercd, words 
with which hraidcd was confused, though etymological ly distinct, 
because of the similarity of sound. 

10. tinct. Obsolete or poetic. Cf. Shakespeare, Hamlet, III, iv, 
01 ; Thomson, Castle of Indolence, I, xliv, etc. 

of her wit. The usual modern meaning of tvit is late, cf. the 
etymology of the word. Expressions like 'out of your wits,' 'keep 
your wits about you' better show the older meaning. 

11. fantasy. An older form of fancy, with similar meaning. 



44 



NOTES 45 

12. yellow-throated nestling:. For an account of Tennyson's mi- 
nute and accurate observation of plant, bird, and animal life, his 
walks, etc., cf. Memoir, I, 18 ; II, 413. 

16. Siript. Cf. tost, 1.232, perplext, 1.833, etc. For Tenny- 
son's rule for writing participles in -ed, cf. Memoir, II, 496. 

17. arms. Armorial bearings, as in the expression coat-of-arms. 
19. dint. The original meaning was 'blow,' 'stroke,' not 'mark 

made by a blow.' The usual present English form is dent. 

22. Caerlyle, Carlisle in Cumberland. The Roman name was 
Luguvallum. This, it is thought, was contracted, and the Celtic 
Caer, 'city,' prefixed, giving Caer-Luell, Carliol, etc., finally Car- 
lisle. According to the Morte Darthur, King Arthur's court was 
sometimes held in Carlisle. 

23. Caerleon. Caerleon-upon-Usk, situated in Monmouthshire, 
the Roman Isca Silurum. One of Arthur's twelve great battles 
was fought here (1.296). The town was important in be Ro- 
man period, the Roman Second Legion having its station there, 
hence was known as Castra Legionis, Camp of the Legions, a name 
afterwards shortened and changed by confusion with the prefix 
Caer-, to Caerleon. Nennius wrote in urhe Leogis quae Britannia 
Cair Leon dicitur. Existing Roman remains in Caerleon are frag- 
ments of the city walls and an amphitheater overgrown with 
grass among the hills, the latter called traditionally "King Ar- 
thur's Round Table." Caerleon, in Malory, is not the seat of 
Arthur's court, though it came to be according to later tradition. 

Tennyson visited Caerleon in 1S50 {Memoir, I, 416) and wrote, 
September 16 : 

"The Usk murmurs by the windows, and I sit like King Arthur 
in Caerleon. This is a most quiet half-ruined little village of 
about 1500 inhabitants with a little museum of Roman tombstones 
and other things." 

Camelot. "to the Cyte of Camelot, that is in Englysshe Win- 
chester." (Malory.) Winchester is a town in Hampshire sixty- 
six miles southwest of London. In the sixth century it became 
the capital of Wessex, and remained of importance in the Old 
English period. Caxton (Preface of the Morte Darthur) writes, 
"And yet of record remayne in wytnesse of hym in Wales in the 
toune of Camelot the grete stones and meruaylous werkys of yron 
lyeng vnder the grounde." "Camelot is neither situated in Wales, 
as Caxron states, nor is the English Winchester identical with it. 
Camel, near South Cadbury, Somersets, is the place where the 



46 



remains of the old city of Camelot are to be found." (Sommer, 
Mortc Darihur, II, 157.) Traditions of Ai-tliur linger :n the 
neighborhood of the village of Camel, or Queen's Camel, in names 
like "Arthur's Spring" and "Arthur's Bridge." 

In the Morte Darthur Camelot is Arthur's capital and most 
important city, the site of feasts and tournaments. Perhaps he 
identifies it with Winchester because of the earlier importance of 
the latter as a seat of royalty. With Tennyson, as with Malory, 
Camelot is Arthur's capital. Tennyson's Camelot in the Idylls 
is a dim mysterious city of undetermined locality. For references 
to its wonderful gate, its richness, etc., cf. notes on 11.795, 797. 
In The Lady of Shalott, the boat "floats down" to Camelot, as 
though the city were below Astolat. 

24. God's riercy. Cf. "God's death," and other interjectional 
phrases popular in the middle ages, note on 1.675. Probably the 
origin of the expression is to be found in the Old French Dcu 
mercit, or la mercit Dew. where Deu is an old genitive. (Chanson 
lie Roland, 1259, 2183, 2505.) 

28. Tennyson breaks off, at this point, to supply the explanation 
of his opening scene. Other Idylls which open in medias res are 
The Marriage of Gcraint, Merlin and Vivien, The Last Tourna- 
ment, and Guinevere. Such beginnings are very common in modern 
novels and short stories. 

31. jousts. In jousts the only weapon used was the lance. 
Malory generally uses the plural of the word as a singular, "at a 
grete justs," etc. (a use of the word not noted by Baldwin, In- 
flection and Syntax of the Morte Darthur, or by the dictionaries). 
Tennyson imitates this use in The Last Tournament, 1.51. 

34. For Arthur, etc. In the 1859 Elaine this passage read : 

•'For Arthur when none kneio from whence he came. 
Long ere the people chose him- for their king. 
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonesse'" — 

35. Lyonesse. Read the beautiful lines in The Passing of Ar- 
thur, 11.81-87. Lyonesse is a legendary land supposed to lie south- 
west of Cornwall, an extension of the mainland of which all but 
the Scilly Isles is now covered by water. Lyonesse is the home 
of Sir Tristram, cf. note on 1.554. 

87. clave. Archaic preterite of cleave 'adhere,' originally a 
"weak" verb. Cf. the history of cleave 'adhere' and cleave 'split,' 
which have exchanged preterites. 



NOTES 47 

41. had slain his brother, etc. The story told in this paragraph of 
the brotlierg and Arthur's finding of the diamonds is not from the 
Morte Dartliur but is Tennyson's own. 

45. Tlie original reading of this line was : 

"And one of these, the king, had on a crown" — 

50. Brake. Tennyson is fond of archaic verb forms, of. clave, 
1.37, spaJcr, 1. 78, hode, 1.410, holpen, 1.494, clrave, 1.400, xcrit, 
1.1102, etc. 

53. shingly scaur. .4 cliff or rocky slope covered with loose 
pebbles. A more common form of scaxir is scar, used by Tennyson 
in the bugle song in the Princess, by Scott, Lady of the Lake, 
Mar)nion, etc., and preserved in many place-names, like Scarbor- 
ough, Scarsdale. Shingle, from which the adjective shinyly, is 
coarse gravel found on beaches. Both words have interesting 
etymologies. 

C>5. The heathen. Cf. The Coming of Artlmr, 11.8-9. Also Ge- 
raint and Enid, 1.9GS, The Last Tournament, 11.92-98, Gumcvere, 
11.134-36, 425-29. The heathen are the Saxon vikings from the 
continent. It was against these that the historic Arthur may 
have fought. Perhaps Tennyson had also vaguely in mind the 
incursions of the Danes. 

G7. still, 'always,' as in Shakespeare. 

75. Hard on the river. An idiomatic use of hard, cf. 'hard by.' 
The river is the Thames. 

7C). ths place .. this world's hugest.' London is mentioned only 
eight times by Malory, never as Arthur's chief city. 

let proclaim a joust. Caused to be proclaimed. The construc- 
tion is obsolete or poetic. Compare here the passage in Malory, 
XVTII, S. There is one "diamond joust," in the Morte Darthur, 
but it in no way corresponds to Tennyson's. It occurs after the 
Elaine episode, and is won by Sir Lavaine. "And thenne every 
day there was justes for a dyamond, who that justed best shold 
have a dyamond." 

78. Guinevere Cf. the first four lines of The Coming of Arthur. 
In the Malrinofjion the name is Gwenhwyvar ; in Geoffrey of Mon- 
mouth, Guanhumara. The latter says she was "descended from a 
noble family of Romans . . . and in beauty surpassed all the 
women of the island." It is said of her in the Morte Darthur, 
"She is the fairest lady I know living," "She is one of the fairesst 



48 NOTES 

that live." Malory's spelling of the name is Guenever, and this, 
with final -e, is followed by William Morris and Richard Hovey. 
There are many other forms of the name, e. g. C. de Troyes has 
Genievre, Ariosto and Petrarch Ginevra, Hughes Guenevera, Heber 
Ganora, etc. Tennyson's spelling seems to be an arbitrary modi- 
fication of Malory's Guenever. His sources for the proper names 
in the Idylls are Malory, Ellis, Geoffrey of Monmouth, or the 
Mahino<jion, and this case is one of his few departures. Cf. 
Modern Language Notes, XIX, 2. 

80. ye. The pronoun is you in 1.79, but in 11.81, 83, ye. For 
Tennyson's many alterations of you to ye and vice versa, from 
the original to the last edition of this Idyll, cf. Jones, Growth of 
the Idylls, 122. 

89. Love=Ioyal. This line occurs also in Guinevere (1.125). 
Similar alliterative compounds in the Idyll are, tiny-trumpeting, 
1.137, 'barren-heatcn, I.IGO, green-glimmering, 1.481, strange-statucd, 
1.795. 

91. tale. 'Number.' Archaic or poetic. 

93. Sir King Sir King and Sir Knight are common forms of 
address in the Mortc Darthur. Sir is a weakened form of sire 
(cf. 1.7C3). 

whole, 'healed,' 'made well.' Whole (OE. hal) has an unoriginal 
initial w added about the beginning of the sixteenth century. Cf. 
heal, htaltli, etc. 

91. lets. 'Hinders.' A causative or factitive verb made from 
the adjective late. Obsolete or archaic. 

101. trustful King. For Arthur's trust of Lancelot, and the 
bond between them, cf. The Coming of Arthur, 11.129-33: 

"Whereat the two, 
For each had warded either in the fight, 
Sware on the field of death a deathless love. 
And Arthur said, 'Man's word is God in man : 
Let chance what will, I trust thee to the death.' " 

Also Gareth and Lynctte, 11.482-86. 

103. Are ye so wise, etc. Cf. Malory, XVIII, 9. 

106. myriad cricket. Cf. Enoch Arden, 1.579. The meaning is, 
"than of the crickets of the mead of which there kre so many 
that each blade of grass seems to have its own voice, yet no voice 
merits attention." 

The relation of mead to mcadoic is like that of shade to shadow. 
Mead occurs in many place-names, as Fairmead, Longmead. 



NOTES ^" 

110. allow'd. Recognized, or approved. Fr. alloucr, Lat. ad- 
lauclore. 

111. many a bard, etc. Cf. Merlin and Vivien, 11.8-16. 

lis. devoir. 'Duty,' or 'service.' Fr. devoir, Lat. dehere. 

122. That passionate perfection. That man passionately zealous 
for perfection. 

129 Table Round. Cf. Guinevere, 11.457-63. The knights of the 
Round Table mentioned in the Idylls are Lancelot GawainPerci- 
vale, Galahad, Tristram, Bors, Balin, Geraint, Gareth, Modred 
Kay Bedivere, Pelleas, Ulflus, Brastias, Valence, and Sagramoui. 

130. vows impossible. The vows of the knights are described 
in Gareth and Lynettc, 11.541-44, and in Guinevere, 11464 ft. 
The su-gestion of the impossibility of keeping the vows occurs 
also ttaretn and Lynette, 11.266-68, and in Tire Last Tourna- 
ment, 11.683 ff. 

130-33 In this connection should be read the Queen's monologue 
concerning Arthur in the Idyll Guinevere (11.633-45), beginning: 

"Ah great and gentle lord. 
Who wast, as is the conscience of a saint. . . . 
I thought I could not breathe in that fane air 
That pure severity of perfect light — 

Cf also the thought in Tennyson's Maud, I, ii, 6-7. 

134. The low sun. etc. Cf. 1.123, and the passage in Guinevere 
indicated supra (especially 11.642-43). 

140. chief of knights. Cf. 11.182, 186, etc. 07ue/ was orig- 
inally only a substantive. Choice is another substantive which 
developed adjective function. 

143. who ho ors.etc. Cf. Guinevere 1.470. Gareth and Lynette, 
11.286-87, 316-17. 

145. crait. Used here in the old sense of 'strength,' 'vigor.' 

148. at a touch. Cf. Gareth and Lynette, 1.1191. 

152. ailow. Cf. note on 1.110. 

157 prove to him. etc. Prove is used here not in the sense of 
'demonstrate- but in the old sense of "test,' as in "the exception 
proves the rule." 

163. lost in fancy, lost his way Other instances of this word 
play or iteration, characteristic of Tennyson's style, are lk-3d, 
•?36 264 1158 1316-18, and the cases mentioned, note on 1.44b. 



50 



1G8. blew the gateway horn. Tlie original edition has, "wound 
the gateway Iiorn." 

171. marveli'd at the wordless man Cf. 1.723 infra. Marvel and 
viarccllous are favorite words in the Morte Darthur. For xoord- 
Icss, cf. Shaliespeare, Lucrece, 1.112. 

172 73. Cf. the Morte Darthur, where the Lord of Astolat "hyght 
Sir Bernard of Astolat." Tennyson has changed the name of his 
son Tirre to Torre. Malory mentions a Sir Tor, King Pellinore's 
son (III, 3, etc.). 

180-Sl. According to convention, the inquiry after name and 
lineage came first, in the formality of welcoming strangers, from 
Old English times downward. Cf. Beowulf, 11.251-52, 332, etc. 

Livest between the lips. An expression suggesting Vergil, Encid 
XIT. 234-3.5. Cf. also The Gardener's Daughter, 11.49-50. 

183. who eat in Arthur's halls. Tennyson uses the same expres- 
sion in 1.254 ; The Marriage of Oeraint, 1.432 ; The Holy Grail, 
1.24. Cf. also Malory's "the mekest man and the jentyllest that 
ever ete in halle emonge ladyes." (Cf. note on 1.1418.) 

187-88. and known ... my shield. Cf. 1.G59. References to the 
well-known azure lions of Lancelot's shield are found also in 
Gareth and Lynctte, 11.571, IISG, 1272-70. Tennyson assigned 
Lancelot a different device in 7'he Lady of Shalott, III. 

106. wot. Sd sg. of the archaic wit ''know.' Sometimes ana- 
logically extended to iDotteth. 

199. Chftrl. Rude, surly fellow, the antithesis of knight. Churl, 
now a word of reprobation, was formerly the name given to the 
lowest class of freemen. 

201. Allow him. Tolerate or suffer him. Not a common use 
of the word. 

202. lustihood. Archaic. 

210. Elaine's premonitory vision is not found in the Morte 
Darthur. 

214. belike. 'Probably.' Now chiefly poetic. 

217. safelier. Now archaic, as the comparative of the adverb. 

218. an if. A reduced form of and if, with the meaning of if; 
sometimes and (so in jNIalory) or an alone is used. Common in 
Shakespeare, but now archaic or dialectal. When found in present 
imitations of dialect speech, it is generally written an'. Cf. Sher- 
idan, Rivals, III, iv. 



NOTES <-> i 

230. Such be. Be for are is another intenlional archaisra. 

248. Thefiower, etc. Cf. note on 1.78. 

250-51. Cf. Mark, v, 2-5, Luke, viii, 29. Tennyson probably 
drew the suggestion of these lines from the Morte Darthur, where 
the account of Lancelot's marlness and flight into solitude is given, 
XT, 8-12. Cf. also The Holy Grail, 11.784-85. 

2."')2. who was yet, etc. Whose conscience or soul yet lived. 

253. the goodliest man. A phrase very common in the Morlr 
DarUiur. 

257. 5eam'd, etc. Cf. "Theune the heremyte advysed hym bet- 
ter, and sawe by a wound on his cheke that he was Syr Lauucelot," 
Mai. XVIII, 13. 

263. a smaller time, A time, like the present, less knightly 
and courteous. 

264. Cf. note on 1.163. 

265. meats. Meat meant originally food or nourishment of any 
kind, not flesh merely, till the modern period. The older meaning 
seems better here. 

271. ten years before. For the time of this Idyll, cf. Introd. 

279. Badonhill. Cf. note on 1.302. 

284. Arthur's . . . wars. Tennyson refers to the twelve battles 
in which Arthur overthrew the heathen in The Coming of Arthur. 
1.517, Balin and Balan, 1.85, The Holy Grail, 11.248, 311-12, and 
Guinevere, 1.429. 

The twelve battles named in the following passage are found 
in Nonnius (cf. Introd.), from whom Tennyson takes his account. 
They are not given elsewhere in this order, or with the same 
names. The places referred to have been variously identified. The 
legendary Arthur lived in Wales and Armoric Cornwall, and many, 
led by Dr. Guest {Orirjines Celticae) have identified the place- 
names in Nennius and Geoffrey of Monmouth with localities in 
the south and west of Britain. At present the preference is for 
the theory that the historic Arthur was a king, not of the south, 
but in Cumbria and South Scotland; and for localization of his 
battles in the north. So Mr. Skene (Foiir Ancient Books of 
Wales) and Mr. Stuart Glennie {Arthurian Localities). It need 
liardly be said that Tennyson did not mean the place-names men- 
tioned in the Idylls always to be identified vv'ith places in the real 
world. Whatever interest the solution of these topographical 



52 NOTES 

problems may have for the antiquarian, the student of Tenny- 
son's poetry need trouble himself about them very little. 

287. Qletn Primvm Jielluni fuit in ostium fliiminis quod dicitur 
Glcin. (Nenuius.) Earlier identified with the Glem in Lincoln- 
shire, or the Glen in the northern part of Northumberland ; now 
with the Glen in Ayrshire, or the Glevi in Devonshire. 

288. four loud battles. The original reading was, "four wild 
battles.'* 

280. Duglas Super aliud fiumen quod dicitur Duhglas. (Nen- 
nius.) This has been identified with the Dunglas south of Lo- 
thian ; the river Douglas in Lancashire ; or with the Douglas in 
Lennox, a stream llowing into Loch Lomond. 

Bassa. Scxtum, Itellum super fiumen quod vacatur Bassas. (Nen- 
uius.) Thought to be a rock called "The Bass," in the Frith of 
Forth, near North Berwick ; or the river Lusas in Hampshire ; or 
perhaps Bashall Brook, near Clithero. 

291. Celidon the forest. Sepiimum fuit helium in silva CcU- 
donis, id est. Gat Coit Celidon. (Nennius.) The Calidonian for- 
est, or that of Englewood, extending from Penrith to Carlisle ; or 
perliaps a wood on the banks of the Carron in upper Tweeddale. 

292. Castle Qurnion. Octavum fuit helium in castello Ouinnion, 
in quo Arthur portavit imaginem Sanctae Mariae perpetuae vir- 
ginis super humeros suos. (Nennius.) Other spellings are Gun- 
nion, .Gweunion. Variously localized: in Cornwall; in Durham; 
as tlie Roman station of Garionum in Norfolk ; and as Caer Gwen 
in Wedale. 

293. our Lady's Head. The image of the Virgin Mary. Accord- 
ing to Nennius the image was borne by Arthur over his shoulders, 
cf. supra. Geoffrey of Monmouth (TX, Iv) says that the head 
was painted on Arthur's shield : 

"Also Arthur himself, having put on a coat of mail suitable to 
the grandeur of so powerful a king, placed a golden helmet upon 
his head, on which was engraven the figure of a dragon : and on 
his shoulders his shield called Priwen ; upon which the picture of 
the blessed Mary, mother of God, wns painted in order to put him 
frequently in mind of her." 

Compare also Wordsworth, Ecclesiastical t<onnets. I, 10. Mr. 
Littledale (Essat/st on the Tdylls) thinks that Tennyson took the 
detail of the head on the cuirass from The Faerie Quecne, vii, 29- 
30 ; and that in "Carv'd of one emerald, centered in a sun" he 
was thinking of the famous "Russian emerald" said to have been 



NOTES 53 

sent originallj' by Pilate to Tiberius, which was supposed to have 
the head of Christ upon it. 

296. Caerleon Novum btUum gcstum est in urhe Leogis. (Nen- 
nius.) Tennyson means Caerleon-upon-Usl?, cf. note on 1.23. The 
Leogis of Nennius has also been identified with Exeter, or with 
Dumbarton upon the Leven. 

207. wJd White Horse. Cf. The Holu avail, 11.311-12, Guin- 
evere, 11.15-16, 570-71. In the Idylls, the white horse is the 
emblem of the Saxons, as the dragon of the British. Hengist and 
Ilorsa are often said to have had a white horse for their standard, 
but the historical truth of this has been questioned. 

208. gilded parapet. Ci. Pellcas and Ettarre.W.l^S. 

209. Agned=Caihreo:onion. Unclecimum factum est helium in 
monte qui dicitur Agned (i. e. Agned-Cathregonion) . (Nennius.) 
Cadbury in Somerset ; or a name for Edinburgh. 

300. Trath Trerolt. Or Ribroit. Dccimum helium gessit in 
littora -fluminls quod vocatur Trihuit (i. e. Trath Triuroit). (Nen- 
nius.) Variously identified: as the Brue in Somersetshire; the 
Ribble in Lancashire ; a place on the banks of the Forth near 
Stirling ; and a stream in Anglesea. 

302. mount of Badon. Duodecimum fuit helium in monte Ba- 
donis, in quo corrucrunt in uno die nongenti sexaginta viri de una 
impetu Arthur et nemo prostravit cos nisi ipse solus. (Nen- 
nius.) This battle seems to have been historical. (Cf. Introd.) 
Radon lias been identified with Bath ; with Badbury Hill in Dor- 
setshire : and with Bowden Hill in Linlithgow, on the Scottish 
Avon. 

304. Christ and him. Cf. the war-cries in Froissart's chron- 
icles, Shakespeare's "Ci-y God for Harry, England and Saint 
George!", Henry V., Ill, i, 34; Scott's "St. Mary for the young 
Buccleu.'h," Lay of the Last Minstrel, etc. 

310-11. nor cares for triumph, etc. Cf. Introd. p. xvi. Also 
Ihtlin and Balan, 11.35-37, Garcth and Lijncttc, 11.485-86. 

314. the fire of Qjd. Cf. The Coining of Arthur. 11.127-29. 

;{!8. fair l^^rd. A conventional mode of address, cf. 1.358, and 
elsewhere. Fair Khiii, fair knigJit, etc., are common in Malory. 

319. traits f pleasantry. I'leasant or jesting talk. 

325. to make him cheer To entertain him. 

330. As when a painter, etc. The Rt. lion. W. E. H. Lecky (in 
Reminis( ( nccs supplied to Tennyson's son, Memoir, II) writes: 



54 NOTES 

"... He once asked Mr. Watts [G. F. Watts] the distinguished 
painter, to describe his ideal of what a true portrait painter 
should he, and he embalmed the substance of Mr. Watts's answer 
in some of the noblest lines in the 'Idylls' . . .'" 

The simile, ll.SrjO ff. in this Idyll is then quoted. 

S36. Dark-sp!endid. Cf. "large black eyes," 1.S29. Tennyson 
speaks of Lancelot's "night-black hair," Balin and Balan, 1.503, 
and of his "coal-black curls," TJie Lady of Shalott, iil, 4. The 
suggestion of Lancelot's darkness is not from Malory. In certain 
old romances his hair is "like yellow gold." Cf. Poet Lore, IV, 
411. 

338. rathe. 'Early.' Obsolete or archaic. The adjective is 
rath, cf. In Mcmoriam, ex ; SJicpheard's Calender, xii, 98 ; Lycidas, 
142. The (tomparative survives in rather. 

342. Anon. 'Straightway,' 'forthwith.' Archaic. 

347. flatterin^r. From the ON. flater, to soothe, stroke gently, 
or caress. Here preserving the older meaning. 

349. seven men. Seven is a favorite number in indefinite ex- 
pressions, among older English writers, eepecially in marking 
time. Cf. Child Horn, 736, "fulle seue yere," ilforte Darthur, VI, 
15, "this seven yere." 

356. favor. In knight errantry a souvenir or gift to be worn 
in the joust, or habitually, as a token of friendship or love. 

360. tourney. A variant of tournament. The words refer usu- 
ally to the contest of a number of knights on each side, rather 
than to single combat. 

362. lists. A list is one of the barriers enclosing the field of 
combat ; sometimes the field so enclosed. LTsually found in the 
plural. 

370. A red sleeve. The reference is to the long pendent sleeve, 
called a "hanging sleeve," worn in the Middle Ages ; or more 
probably, to the band or strip of stuff, single or double, often 
hung from the arm, independent of the natural sleeve. (Cf. 
Viollet le Due. Diet, de MoMlier Francais.) The favor was usually 
some article of feminine adornment, a scarf, glove, sleeve, or knot 
of ribbon. Cf. Blancfiardyn and Eglantine (E. E. T. S. 61. 81) 
where Blanchardyn is given a black sleeve to wear on his helm, 
later a crimson one. 

392. This line read in the 1859 edition : 

"rau.sed in the gateway standing hy the shield" — 



NOTES 55 

396. and so lived, etc. This line recalls the reader to 1.27, 
where the same expression occurs. 

40.1. hermit. In the Morte Darthur, Lancelot and Lavainc do 
not visit the hermit before the tournament, but find lodging in 
Camelot. Tennyson elaborates his picture of the hermit's dwell- 
ing from Malory's "that hermytage the whiche was under a wood, 
and a grete clyf on the other syde, and a fayre w^ater rennynge 
under it." (XYIII, 12.) 

409. noise. A Shakespearean sense of this v.^ord was pleasant 
noise or music. Tennyson uses the word here in the former sense ; 
in Hir Halohad, 28, "a noise of hymns," in the latter. 

411. brolce from underground. Cf. 1.1130 and "So when the sun 
broke next from underground," The Holy Grail, 1.328. 

415. Lancelot of the Laite. Cf. note on 1.1393. 

422. Pendragon. The name Pendragon was, according to legend, 
the title given to Arthur's father, Uther, and later to Arthur. 
The story in Geoffrey of ^Monmouth, VIII, xiv-xvii, is that Uther 
saw a comet "darting forth a ray, at the end of which was a 
globe of lire in the form of a dragon." When he became king, — 

* "... remembering the explanation which Merlin had made . . . 
lie commanded two dragons to be made of gold, in likeness of 
The dragon which he had seen at the ray of the star. . . He made 
a present of one to the cathedral church at Winchester, Init re- 
served the other for himself, to be carried along with him to his 
wars. From this time therefore he was called Uther Pendragon, 
which in the British tongue signifies the dragon's head ; the occa- 
sion . . . being Merlin's predicting from the appearance of a dragon, 
that he should be king." 

The dragon was the emblem of the British, as the white horse 
of the Saxons. The habit of calling a king or leader a dragon is 
very common in Welsh poetry. For the possible origin of the use 
of the dragon as an emblem, among the British, cf. Rhys, Celtic 
Britain, 133. 

423. talk mysteriously. For the rumors about Arthur's coming, 
cf. The Coming of Arthur, 11.177. Also note on 1.1247 be':0w. 

430. clears faced King. This may refer to Arthur's 'openness of 
expression,' reflecting his clear nature, or to his fairness of 
complexion. Tennyson describes Arthur as "fair Beyond the race 
of Britons and of men," The Coming of Arthur, 11.329-20. He 
speaks of his "golden head," Balin and Balan, 1.505, and of "the 
light and lustrous curls That made his forehead like a rising 
sun,'^ The Passing of Arthur, 11.384-85. Cf. also The Last Tour- 
nament, 11.(561-63. 



56 NOTKS 

431. samite. A heavy silk material of great richness. Orig- 
inally each thread was supposed to be twisted of six fibers, hence 
the name, from the Gk. hex 'six' and mitos 'thread.' Beside red 
samite Tennyson mentions white samite, The Coming of Arthur, 
1.284, Tlie Fassiny of Arthur, 1.312, etc. ; crimson samite, The 
Holy Grail, 1.844; and blackest samite, 1.1135 below. 

432. golden dragon. Cf. note on 1.422. Similar refereo'jes to 
the characteristic use of the dragon in ornamentation are, The 
Last Tournament, 1.144, 66G-G7, Guinevere, 11.39o-96, 589-91. 

440. tender. Delicately fashioned. 

44G. crescent. Cf. 1.1389 below. Tennyson uses in-cresecnt and 
(le-crcscent, Gareth and Lynette, 1.519. 

come . . . and overcome. Cf. note on 1.1G3 ; also ilo and overdo, 
1.4G7 ; hears . . . and overhears, 11.481-83 ; nohle-. . . and ignoble, 
1.1081. 

4G4. Lancelot's kith and kin. Kitli is obsolete except in this ex- 
pression. In the Mortc Darthur, it is Gawain and Arthur who 
first discuss Lancelot's identity. 

473. Cf. 1.3GG. 

474. The original reading of this line was : 

" 'IIow then? who then?' a fury seized on them." 

475. family passion for the name. Cf. Tlie Holy Grail. 11.G48-49 : 

"For Lancelot's kith and kin so worship him 
That ill to him is ill to them. . . ." 

477. couch'd their spears. Lowered them for attack. Lancelot 
and Lavaine are set upon in somewhat similar fashion by King 
Arthur and nine knights (Mai. XVIII, 23-24) in a later joust in 
which they take part, again disguised. Lancelot once more wins 
the prize. 

482. smoke. Cf. the fine spray blown from the white crests of 
the waves. With regard to this passage Tennyson wrote {Memoir, 
I, 257) in 1882, in a letter to Mr. S. E. Dawson, author of A 
Study of the Princess: 

"There was a period in my life when, as an artist, Turner for 
instance, takes rough sketches of landskip, etc., in order to work 
them eventually into some great picture, so I was in the habit of 
chronicling, in four or five words or more, whatever might strike 
me as picturesque in Nature. I never put these down, and many 
and many a line has gone away on the north wind, but some 
remain, e. g. . . . 



Notes 57 

with all 
Its stormy crests that smote against the skies. 

Suggestion : a storm which came upon us in the middle of the 
]North Sea." 

494. holpen. The old pp. instead of liclptd, as molten beside 
melted. Tennyson uses fouyhten in many of the Idylls. Cf. also 
note on 1.50. 

408. The original reading was : 

"Back to the barrier ; then the heralds blew" — 

.">02. Diamond me, etc. For similar expressions cf. Richard II., 
II. iii, 87; Romeo and Juliet, III, v, 15;^; "clerk me no clerks," 
Iranhoe, XX; "But me no huts," Fielding, etc. 

511. I dread me. 'J'he use of reflexive datives with intransitive 
verbs is very common in imitations of archaic constructions. Cf. 
"Sat him down," The Coming of Arthur, 1.155. Shakespeare 
writes, "I doubt me," "get thee away," "hie you home," etc. 

513. The original reading of this line was : 

■' 'Draw,' — and Lavaine drew, and that other gave" — - 

517. Then came the hermit, etc. Malory says (XVIII, 13>, "Fur 
there were none heremytes in tho dayes but that they had ben 
men of worshyp and of prowesse, and tho heremytes helde grete 
housholde and refresshyd peple that were in distresse." 

524. utmost North and West., According to Malory, among those 
who fought against the Round Table were the King of North Galis 
(North Wales j, the King of Northumberland, etc. 

525. marches. Boi-der lands, frontiers. 

528. sore wounded. As an adverb sore is now archaic or provin- 
cial. 

543. Ourselves. Here the 'plural of royalty" ; so xis, probably, 
1.54: 

"Ourselves will send it after. M'herefore take 
This diamond, and deliver it and return, 
And bring us tvhat he is, and how he fares." 

54 7. carven flower. Cf. 11.441-42. 

551. prince. Gawain is King Lot's son. 

553. Gawain .. .The Courteous In the Mortc Durthitr Arthur's 
nephew, and one of his strongest and best known knights. 
Tennyson's Gawain is not Malory's, and Malory's is not the Ga- 



58 NOTES 

wain of older tradition. Gwalclimai (Gavvain) in the Mabin- 
ogion is of higli and noble character. In Geoffrey of Monmouth, 
Walgan (Gawain) is Arthur's nephew and most distinguished 
knight ; his deeds almost eclipse the king's. The French verse 
j'omanccs often have Gawain for their hero, and exhibit him as 
the flower of knighthood, zealous to redress grievances, and al- 
most invincible in battle. So in the early English Oawayn and 
the Grcne KnigJit. Malory lowers the character and the high 
position of Gawain, but in the Morte Dartliur he is still a knight 
of dignity and loyalty. He suffers most in the French prose 
romances, becoming there cruel and perfidious. 

Tennyson keeps for Gawain his old title le courtois, 'The 
Courteous' (cf. Chaucer's "Gawayn with his old curteisye," The 
Squire's Talc), but develops his character unfavorably in the 
Idylls. His Gawain is worldly and unstable, "light-of-love" 
(Pelleas and Ettarre, 1.353) ; his courtesy has a "touch of traitor 
in it" {Lancelot and Elaine, 1.635) ; he is "reckless and irrever- 
ent" {Holy Grail, 1.853) ; "light in life and light in death" 
{Passing of Arth'ur, 1.50). For Gawain as a boy, cf. The Coming 
of Arthur, 11.319-21. 

554. Tristram. Arthur's leading knight, after Lancelot, and 
almost Lancelot's equal. For Tristram in the Idylls, cf. The Last 
Tournament. Tennyson follows Malory's spelling ; Matthew Ar- 
nold and others the French spelling, Tristan. 

Geraint. A knight made conspicuous by Tennyson in his Idyll 
The Marriage of Geraint, and its sequel Geraint and Enid, both 
based ou the Mahinogion. Geraint is nor mentioned in the Morte 
Darthur. 

555. Gareth The hero of the Idyll Gareth and Lynctte. In the 
Morte Darthur he is the youngest son of King Lot of Orkney. 
His brothers are Gawain, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Modred. In the 
Idylls, Gareth is the only son of King Lot who remains faithful 
to Arthur. LI. 555-56 read in the 1859 edition of the Idyll : 

"And Lamorack a good knight, but therewithal 
Sir Modred's brother, of a crafty house" — 

According to Malory, Lamorack (Lamorak de Galys, i. e. Wales) 
is not the brother of -Modred but of Percivale. His place in the 
Round Table narratives is high. Cf. VII, 9, where he is ranked 
with Lancelot and Tristi-am. 

556. riodred. Tennyson follows Geoffrey of Monmouth's spell- 
ing, instead of Malory's, which is Mordred. Modred is Arthur's 



NOTES 59 

nephew, both in Geoffrey's account and in the Morte DartJiur, and 
through his hatred for Arthur, and his ambition for the throne, 
liecomes the cliief agent in the lying's downfall. In the Idylls he 
plays a slighter and more ignoble part. The Round Table is 
wrecked without his agency, although it is he who, leagued with 
the Saxons, lights against Arthur in his last battle, and gives him 
his death wound. Tennyson makes Modred, as in the romance of 
MerlJn (cf. Ellis, Early Erujlisli Metrical Romances) the son of 
liOt and Bellicent. 

5r>8. Wroth, etc. (iawain volunteers the quest of the stranger 
knight, in the Morte DartJiur. 

567. tarriance. Poetic and infrequent. 

572. like. Counterpart, person resembling him. Often used as 
a substantive, cf. 'his like,' 'like cures like,' etc. 

584. allow. Cf. note on 1.110. 

.■'>91. Albeit Used in concessive clauses. ME. al he it, 'al- 
liiovigh.' 

fantastical. Full of romantic whims. 

592. So fine a fear. 'Fine' here means 'superfine.' The king 
thinks Lancelot overpunctilious or sensitive. 

G05. Tennyson seems hero to have taken his suggestion from 
Ellis (cf. Introd. p. xvii) : "She I'etired to her chamber and aban- 
doned herself to the most violent transports of jealousy." (p. 
159.) It does not come from the Morte DartJiur. 

In the 1S59 edition, this line read, "Moved to her chamber." 

611. After narrating Arthur's return to Camelot and his meet- 
ing with the queen, 'J'ennyson reverts to Gawain. In Malory it 
is Sir Bors, Lancelot's kinsman, not Arthur, v/ho talks with Guin- 
evere of Lancelot's v/earing the red sleeve. The interview takes 
place after Gawain has found Elaine and returned with his news. 
The queen accuses Lancelot to Bors, who defends him, and finally 
undertakes his quest. 

614. In the Morte DartJnrr, Gawain's coming to Astolat takes 
place after his fruitless search for Lancelot. He does not proffer 
love to Elaine, but is loyal to Lancelot. Possibly Tennyson fol- 
lowed the version in the French prose romance of Lancelot, where 
Gawain's attitude is much as in the Idyll ; or he may have as- 
signed the role independently. 

618. parted. 'Departed.' Fr. imrtir. Depart formerly meant 
'separate.' Part and depart have exchanged meanings. 



60 NOTES 

626. ridd'n a random round. In 18.j9 this line read, "but liad 
ridden xvilOhj round," etc. 

628. us. Probably the plural of rank or authority, like our, 
1.632. 

629. Originally, 

"And ride no longer tvildly, noble Prince" — 
642. play upon her. Cf. 1.208, and Hamlet, III, ii "You would 
play upon me. . . Do you think I am easier to be played on 
than a pipe?" 

652. falcon. A hawk used in falconry. Strictly the female; the 
male is called tercel or ticrcclct. Falconry was a favorite amuse- 
ment of kings and nobles in mediaeval Europe. Falcons have 
strong beaks and claws, and were trained to hunt other birds. 
The owner rode with the hooded falcon on his wrist. When game 
was discovered, the hood was removed and the falcon rose above 
its destined prey, swooped down on it, seized it, and bore it back 
to the owner. Cf. Merlin and Vivien, 11.93-134, for an account 
of a falcon hunt. 

6.53. hern. A contraction of heron, with the same meaning. 

659. Cf. note on 1.187-88. 

660. Ramp. Generally an adverb. The usual adjective is ram- 
pant. The other positions in heraldry are snltant, 'leaping,' couch- 
ant, 'lying,' and dormant, 'sleeping.' 

field. In heraldry the surface of the shield on which the ar- 
morial bearings are depicted. 

smote his thigh. An action generally expressing surprise or 
amusement. In Homer it expressed grief or dismay. So Ez. 21-12, 
Jer. 31-19.' 

671. Meseem'd. Archaic. Cf. Rossetti's hcrseemed. The Blessed 
Damozcl. 

671-74. Note the repetition of know, here, cf. note on 1.163. 

674. Originally, ''Mcthinls there is none other," etc. 

675. God's death. Often abbreviated to 'sdeath.' So God's 
blood i'sblood), God's wounds ('swoons), etc. Cf. note on 1.24. 

682. The association of changing leaf with changing love is 
found also in Tristram's song in The Last Tournament, 11.275-81. 

683. enow An old variant of enouxjli. Frequent in Shakespeare. 
An older reading has enough. Originally the line read : 

"May it he so? Why then, far be it from me" — 



NOTES 61 

700. lightly. Here, 'in a light hearted manner.' A word fre- 
(luently used by Malory, "ye will not repent so lightly,"' "lightly 
he smote,'' etc. 

707. our courtesy. The courtesy which you teach us to strive 
for. 

71.J. For twenty strokes of the blood. For twenty pulse-beats. 

724. Predoom'd. I'assed sentence on her beforeliand. 

728. Originally, "Marr'd her friend's point/' etc. 

780. a nlne=days' wonder. A wonder lasted proverbially nine 
days. Cf. As You Like It, III, ii, 184; Henry VI., Ill, ii, 113-14. 

739. wormwood. A plant or woody herb proverbial for its bit- 
terness, t'he word was transformed by folk-etymology from OE. 
wcrnwtl, and had originally nothing to .do with worm or wood. 
Cf. Ger. wcrmuth, Fr. vermoutli. 

748. let me hence. The infinitive of a verb of 'going' omitted, 
as often in Old and later English. 

766. wit ye well. Very common in Malory, "Now wit ye well," 
"he wist well," etc. 

767. Right fain. Fain, 'glad,' is now archaic or poetic. Right 
was earlier in very common use as an intensive adverb. It re- 
mains in the standard speech in a few expressions like "right 
reverend," "right honorable," etc. 

77.3. Lightly. Cf. note on 1.700. 

7S4. Cf. 1.398. 

788. field of flowers. Cf. 11.1134, 1170, 1220. Also Introd. p. xxiii. 

795. strange statued gate Cf. 1.839. Called the Gate of the 
Three Queens, The Holy Grail, 11.3.38-59. Read the passage in 
Garcth and Lijnettc, 11.209-26, describing it in detail. 

797. still rich city. Cf. 11.840-42, and note on 1.23. Camelot 
is similarly described in Gurcih and Li/nctte, 11.296-302, and in 
The Holy Grail, 11.227-29, and 339 f£. 

806. In 1859. "the cell in which he slept." 

812. dolorous. Frequently used by Malory, "dolorous stroke," 
"damsel dolorous,'' etc. 

836. he not regarded. For similar archaic or inverted word 
order cf. "As you that not obey me," Gcraint and Enid, 1.151 ; 
'•Why ye not wear," TJie Last Tournament, 1.36. 



62 NOTES 

840. to her kin. Cf. Malory. Tennyson, with what Mr. Chur- 
ton Collins and Mr. Littledale call perhaps needless concessions 
to the conventionalities, makes Elaine go every night to the house 
of her kinsfolk and return in the morning to the hermitage. In 
the account in Ellis (p. 15G), Lancelot lodges at Winchester be- 
fore the tournament at the house of Lavaine's aunt, in Malory 
with a "ryche burgeis." Possibly the suggestion of the kinsfolk 
at Camelot came to Tennyson from Ellis. 

849. =feverous. Poetic for feverish. 

855. Did kindlier unti> men Malory's expression. 

857. simples. Medicinal herbs, so called because each herb was 
sxipposed to possess its own particular virtiie, and hence to con- 
stitute a simple remedy. Simples in this usage is a substantivated 
adjective, like nolAe, iicvcs, goods, ills, etc. It is found commonly 
in the plural. 

802. held her tenderly. Hold in the sense of 'think' or 'con- 
sider' is very common in ilaiory, "thou boldest me for thy ser- 
vant," etc. 

SG7. peradventure. M'erchance,' 'perhaps.' OF. par avcniurc. 
Common in Malory. "Peradventure, said Balin," "peradventure, 
tlioii.;;:h lie hate you," etc. 

870. straiten'd him. Confined him. 

872. faith unfaithful, etc. Faith to Guinevere involving false- 
ness to Arthur. LI. 871-72 are among the most widely quoted in 
the Idylls, and v,'ell illustrate Tennyson's command of oxymoron 
and epigram. They recall what Samuel Butler (in his Cat and 
Ptiss) said of Lothario: 

"At once his passion was both false and true, 
And the more false, the more in earnest grew." 

• 877. Origiimll.-',-, "the sivcct image," etc. 

898. burthen, liofraiu. Strictly the 'burthen' (burden) is the 
undersong, or accompaniment, i. e., is sung throughout, not at 
regular intervals like a refrain. 

900. To A^tolat . . . rode, etc. Tennyson has much condensed 
Malory's narrative of Lancelot's stay at the hermitage, and 
omitted many incidents, such as the coming of Sir Bors, their 
conversation concerning the Queen's wrath and concerning Elaine, 
tile breaking out afresh of Lancelot's wound, etc. 



NOTES G3 

005. the victim's flowers, etc The garlaucl wreathed on the 
head of the victim led to sacrilice. Cf. passages in Homer. 

910 11. I make My will of yours. Your wishes shall be mine. 

912. what 1 will I can. Can do. 

920. In the 1859 edition, "Seeing I must go to-day,"' etc. In 
the account in JNIaloty, there is no sign of the struggle between 
p:iaine's wish to speak and the sensitive modesty forbidding her. 
Nevertheless the parallel between the passages is close. 

939. quit. Repay. 

953. beyond these IS. Lancel'jt is the son of King Ban, whoso 
realm, Ilerwick, ]\Ialoi'y mentions as across the sea. "And so they 
s hypped at Cardyf and sayled vnto Berwyk somme men call Bayen, 
[i. e., Bayounel and somme men calle it Beaume where the wyn 
of Beaume is," XX, 18. The French romance of Merlin says that 
Benoyc [i. e., B.enwick|. the realm of King Ban, is in Lesser 
Brittany. 

964. a flash. Cf. 1.944. 

965. I fear me. Cf. note on 1.511. 

977. by tact of love. I'.y love's intuition. 

985. still. Cf. note on 1.67. 

986. pictured wall. Wall coverod with figured tapestry. 

995. sallow-rifted glooms. l»iisk of evening broken by streaks of 
yellow. 

1000. Each of the Idylls, with the exception of Geraint and 
Enid, The Holy Grail, and The Passing of Arthur, contains a little 
troubadour-like song, like Elaine's "Song of Love and Death." 
The lines are of the same length as the other lines of the poem, 
and show a repetition and weaving in and out of words and 
thoughts suggesting the rondels and triolets of French troubadour 
poetry, although there is no conformity with these in the rhyme 
scheme and the meter. Most of the lyrics in the Idylls are in 
three-line stanzas, in tliis regard resembling the tercet rhymes 
of the Welsh bardic poems, or of Breton song (see Merlin's "rid- 
dling triplets," The Corning of Arthur, 1.402). Cf. "Blow trum- 
pet, for the world is white with May !" The Coming of Arthur, 
1.481 ; "O morning star that smilest in the blue." Garetli and 
Lynctic. 1.974 ; "Turn Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the 
proud," Marriage of Geraint, 1.347 ; "In love, if love be iove, if 
love be ours." McrJiu and Yiricn, 1.385 ; "Late, late, so late !" 
Cninerrrc, I. TOG. These are in three line stanzas^ the fii-^;t two 



64 NOTES 

rhyming, and the thii'd lines either ending in the same word or 
rhyming with one another. The form is still further varied in 
"The fire of heaven has ki'l'd the barren cold," Baliu and Balan, 
1.434 ; "A ]ose, but one, no other rose had I," Pclleas and Ettarre, 
1.391 ; and Tristram's song, "Ay, ay, O, ay — the winds that bend 
the brier," in The Last Tournament, 1.735. 

1012. scaled her voice. Mounted tlu^ scale, rose in pitch. 

1015. . hantom of the house. F.elief in the apparition of a tall 
woman in white, who shrieks about the house, giving warning of 
a coming death, is still common, especially in Ireland, where tlie 
apparition is called the "Ilanshee." 

1019. shrilling. Tennyson often uses sJirUl as a verb, cf. Tlic 
Fassinfj of Arthur, 11.33, 41. 

1036. far up the shining flood. Cf. note on Camelot, 123. 

1040. Cf. 1.692. 

1061. an. Cf. note on 1.218. 

1066. Originally, "To which the gentle sister made reply" — 

1077. Cf. note on 1.872. 

1084. pass. Pass away. 

1093. shrive me clean. Confess myself and receive absolution. 

1096. Besought Lavaine, etc. In the Morte Darthur it is Torre 
who Avrites the letter. Otherwise the passages are much the same. 

1102. writ. Common in the eighteenth century in the preterite 
singular, instead of wrote. Here it replaces written m the 
participle. 

1115. a barge. Cf. the request of Percivale's sister (Morte Dar- 
thur, XVII, 11), "as soone as I am dede put me in a bote at the 
next haven, and lete me goo as adventure will lede me." The 
custom of burial by boat was very old, cf. Beowulf, 11.26-37. 

1129. dole. Archaic and poetic. Common in Malory, "King 
Lot made great dole," "All the court made great dole," etc. 

1130. Cf. 1.411. 

11.".4. shone Fun=summer. Shone in (he sunlight of midsummer. 

113r>. creature. Servitor. Now commonly used in a depreci- 
atory or pejotiitive sense, 'tool,' 'cat's-pav,'.' 

1141-42. a lily ... The silken case. Tennyson varies from Malory 
in the addition of the lily and the case. Cf. also Elaine's direc- 
tions, 11.110010. 



NOTES 65 

11 46. dumb old servitor. In Malorj- (XVIII, 20) the 'Servitor 
tcould not speak. 

1147. Oar'd bythedumb. Oor is used as a verb in TJic Princess 
also. In ttie 185!) edition tlie line read, "titvcr'd by the dumb," 
etc. 

1148-49. in her left, etc. In Malory the letter is in her right 
hand. Cf. al.so "Thenne Syr Percyuale made a letter of a'l that 
she had holpen hem as in straunge aduentures, and put hit in her 
ryght hand and soo leyd her in a barge, and couerd it with blak 
sylke." Mai. XVII, 11. 

1155. That day Sir Lancelot, etc. Elaine died on the eleventh 
day after Lancelot's departure for the court, cf. 1.1126. Tenny- 
son probably ordained Lancelot's delay, if he thought of the point 
at all, in order that the appearance of the barge might be at the 
effective moment indicated in 11.1230-35. In the account in Ellis, 
Lancelot has no opportunity to seek the Queen for several days, 
because unable to free himself from the company of friends. 

1167. In 1850 !:his line read, '"The shadow of a piece," etc. 

1170. oriel. A projecting window in old buildings. 

1172. They met, etc. Tennyson followed Ellis here. Cf. note 
on 1.1197. In Malory there is no interview between Lance/ot and 
the (^ueen before the coming of the barge. Beside the two inter- 
views in this Idyl] another is sketched, Balin and Balan, 11.239-75. 

1178. cygnet. Young swan. The down of the cygnet is dusky. 
The meaning here is, "a neck so white that in comparison the 
Villi te neck of the swan seems even darker than the dusky neck of 
its young." 

1185. absoluter. Comparatives in -cr and -est are often used in 
poetry where ordinary prose usage would prefer comparatives 
with more and most. Cf. Swinburne's irretcheder, patienter, splen- 
flider, etc. 

1197. There is nothing corresponding to this scene in Maloi-y. 
For the suggestion of Guinevere's speech, cf. Ellis, p. 159: 

"Guenever . . . thought herself fully .iustlfied in reproaching 
him for his passion for the maid of Ascalot ; which she observed, 
however justified by that lady's superior charms, unfortunately 
tended to lessen his reputation by giving him a disgust for those 
nobler pursuits in which his eminence over all the knights of 
the world \xa.s hitherto so well established. She, however, trusted 
to his honour, and hoped that his new passion would never induce 
him to betray . . . one who however inferior to her rival in beauty, 
had at least proved the sincerity and constancy of her affection!" 



66 NOTES 

1224. Or hers or mine. Or . . . or, tov either . . . or, lohether . . . or, 
is archaic or poetic. 

1227. Flung them, etc. In The Last Tournament, 11.35-4r,, Guin- 
evere thus explains their loss : 

"... but, O my Queen, I muse 
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone 
Those"^ diamonds that I rescued from the tarn, 
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear." 

"Would rather you had let them fall," she 
cried, 
"Plunge and be lost — ill-fated as they were, 
A bitterness to me ! — ye look amazed, 
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given — - 
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out 
Above the river — that unhappy child 
Past in her bai'ge ..." 

11'.30. In 1859 this line read : 

"Then while Sir Lancelot leant, in half disgusV 

1247. Fairy Queen, etc. Cf. 1.423. The Coming of Arthur tells 
the various rumors of Arthur's coming and going. Compare also 
Merlin's sajing "From the great deep to the great deep he goes," 
ib. 1.410. In The Passing of Arthur, 11.361-440, is described the 
coming of the three queens who bear him away to Avilion. Cf. 
also Gareth and Lunette, 11.198-200 : 

"Lord, we have heard from our wise man at 

home 
To Northward, that this King is not the King, 
But only changeling out of Fairyland, . . ." 

1250. For some d J hold, etc. Cf. The Coming of Arthur, 11.418-21: 

"... and Merlin in our time 
Hath spoken also, not in jest, and sworn 
Tho' men may v/ound him that he will not die 
But pass, again to come ; . . ." 

Also Arthur's words in The Passing of Arthur, 1.28. "I pac-s but 
shall not die." William of Malmesbury, about 1125, is apparently 
the first to express belief in Arthur's second coming. Malory 
writes (XXI, 7) : 

"Yet somme men say in many partyes of Englond that kyng 
Arthur is not deed, but had by the wylle of our Lord Jhesu in to 
another place ; and men say that he shal come ageyn, and he shal 
Wynne the holy crosse. I wyl not say that it shal be so, but 
rather I wyl say here in this world he chaunged his lyf. But 
many men say that thei-e is wryton upon his tombe this vers : 
Hie jacet Artliurus Rex quondam. Rexque futurus." 



NOTES 67 

►Similar belief in the return at a critical time of a king or war- 
]-ior to lead his people to victory is recorded among many races. 
Notable instances are the legends of Charlemagne in Odenburg, 
Kaiser Friedrich II. in the castle of Kyffhauser, Holger the Dane 
in Elsinore, etc. 

1256. Percivale. Cf. the first lines of the Idyll The Holy Grail. 
For Percivale's part in the Grail legend, cf. Introd. In Malory 
he is called Sir Percival de Galis [Galys, Walys, or Wales]. The 
corresponding name in the MaMnogion is Peredur. Since the 
Conte del Graal of Crestien de Troyes, the legend of Percivale has 
had wide popularity. It is now best known, perhaps, through 
Wagner's opera Parsifal. 

1257. Sir Galahad. Galahad is the type of the spotless and 
saint-like in the Morte Darthur, and is the only one of Arthur's 
knights who achieves the quest of the Grail. Tennyson (The Holy 
Grail, 11.1.34-35) has him always wear white armor. Compare 
the poet's early lyric Bir Galahad, published in 1842. In the 
Mortc Darthur Arthur sends Sir Brandiles and Sir Agravaine, in- 
stead of Sir Percivale and Sir Galahad. 

1262. Arthur spied, etc. In the Morte Darthur, it is the Queen 
who first sees the letter. 

12G4. Compare the letter in the Morte Dartliur. 

1299. Sea was her wrath, etc. Her wrath yet worked, like the 
sea, which remains rough after ithe storm has passed. 

1313. joyance. Poetic. Cf. joyauncc, Mrs. Browning's Rhyme 
of the Duchess May, etc. 

13J5. Arthur answer'd. Cf. his words in Malory. For Elaine's 
burial cf. also Ellis, 162, ''The King immediately gave orders for 
the interment of the lady with all the honours suited to her 
rank." 

1319. that shrine, etc. The "shrine" is Westminster. 

1327. half=forgotten kings. The tombs of Edward the Confessor, 
Henry III., Edward I., etc., are in Westminster. The abbey stands 
on the site of an ancient Saxon church, built by Sebert, a king of 
the West Saxons, in the seventh century. According to tradition, 
there was a still more ancient church on the site, dating from 
the second century A.D. 

1345. There is little or no correspondence between the remain- 
ing lines of the poem and the Morte DartJiur, 



68 NOTES 

1343-46. These lines lead in 1859 : 

"But Arthur who beheld his cloiidy brows 
Approach'd him, and with full affection flung 
One arm about his neck, and spake and said, 
'Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in whom I have 
Most love and most affiance' " — 

affiance. Trust. Cf. Malory, I, 3, "He made affiance to the 
king." Used by Shakespeare. 

1353-54. These lines read originally : 

"... but now I would to God, 
For the ivild people say wild things of thee" — 

By the change (as pointed out by Dr. Jones, Groioth of the 
Idylls) Arthur is represented not as closing his ears to testimony, 
but as attributing the trouble in Lancelot's eyes to "homelessness." 

1368. Cf. Tristram's song in The Last Tournament. 

1389. crescent. Cf. note on 1.446. 

1393-96. These lines read originally : 

"Lancelot, whom the Lady of the lake 
Stole from his mother-r-os the story runs — 
She chanted snatches of mysterious song" — ■ 

Lancelot is introduced very abruptly in the Morte Darthur, and 
the story of his early life and coming to Arthur's court omitted. 
He is called Launcelot du Lake, however, (II, 8). Tennyson intro- 
duced from another source the legend of his carrying off by the 
Dame du Lac., whence his surname. It is first told in the German 
Lanzelet of the twelfth century by Ulrich von Zatzikhoven, and 
in the French prose romance of the thirteenth century. Tennyson 
probably derived his version from Ellis, pp. 143-44, or else from 
Dunlop's History of Fiction (1814), T, vii. 

When Tennyson introduced allegory into the Idylls, he gave 
this Lady of the Lake, whom he now made symbolical of religion, 
a more spiritual character. Hence probably his changes in this 
passage, in 1869, of stole to caught, and song to hymns. Tenny- 
son's Lady of the Lake is not to be identified with any of the 
various ladies of the lake in Malory, assuredly not with Nimue, 
modified to Vivien, of Tennyson's Merlin and Vivien. 

1410. not without. Without is not very correctly used in the 
sense of unless or except, unless in poetry. Cf. "Marry . . . not 
Without the prince be willing," Much Ado, etc.. Ill, ill. 



69 



1418. die a holy man. After Guinevere went to the nunnery at 
Almesbary, Lancelot entered a monastery. Cf. the Morte Darthur, 
XXI, 10. 

And atte last he [Sir La,uucelot] was ware of an ermytage and 
a ehappel stode betwyxte two clyffes, and than he herde a lytel 
belle rynge to masse . . . And he that sange masse was the 
bysshop of Caunterburye. Bothe the bysshop and Sir Bedwer 
knewe Syr Launcelot, and they spake to gyders after masse, but 
whan Syr Bedwere had tolde his tale al hole, Syr Launcelottes 
hert almost braste for sorowe, and Sir Launcelot threwe his armes 
abrode. and sayd, "Alas! who may truste thys world V" And than^ 
he knelyd doun on his knee, and prayed the bysshop to shryve* 
hym and assoyle hym ; and than he besought the bysshop that he 
myght be hys brother. Than the bysshop sayd, "I wyll gladly," and 
there he put an habyte upon Syr Launcelot, and there he servyd 
God day and nyght with prayers and fastynges. 

At Lancelot's death. Sir Ector de Marys speaks this eulogy 
(XXI, 13) : 

"A, Launcelot, thou were hede of al Crysten knyghtes. And 
now I dare say thou Sir Launcelot, there thou lyest, that thou 
were never matched of erthely knyghtes hande, and thou were the 
curtest knyght that ever bare shelde, and thou were the truest 
frende to thy lovar that ever bestrade hors. and thou were the 
trewest lover of a synful man that ever loved woman, and thou 
were the kyndest man that ever strake with swerde, and thou 
were the goodelyest persone that ever cam emonge prees of 
knyghtes, and thou was the mekest man and the jentyllest that 
ever ete in halle emonge ladyes, and thou were the sternest knyght 
to thy mortal foo that ever put spere in the breste." 



APPENDIX 

ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE "MORTE DARTHUR" 

Book XVIII, Chapter viii. Thus it passed on tyl Oure Lady 
Daye, Assumpcyon. Within a xv dayes of that feest the kynge 
lete crye a grete justes and a turnement that shold be at that daye 
att Camelot, that is Wynchester. And the Ivynge lete crye that he 
and the Ivynge of Scottes wold juste ageynst alle that wold come 
ageynst hem. . . Soo kynge Arthur made hym redy to departe 
to thise justys and wold have had the quene with hym ; but at that 
tyme she wold not, she said, for she was seke and myghte not ride 
at that tyme. "That me i-epenteth," sayd the kynge, "for this 
seven yere ye sawe not suche a noble felaushyp to gyders, excepte 
at Wytsontyde whan Galahad departed from the courte." "Truly," 
sayd the quene to the kynge, "ye must holde me excused. I maye 
not be there, and that me repenteth." And many demed the quene 
wold not be there by cause of Sir Launcelot du Lake, for Sire 
Launcelot wold not ryde with the kynge ; for he said that he was 
not hole of the wound the whiche Sire Mador had gyven hym. 
. . . Soo whan the kynge was departed, the quene called Sir 
Launcelot to her, and said thus, "Sire Launcelot, ye are gretely to 
blame thus to holde yow behynde my lord. What trowe ye, what 
will youre enemyes and myne saye and deme? nought els but, 'See 
how Sire Launcelot holdeth hym ever behynde the kyng, and soo 
doth the quene, for that they wold have their pleasyr to gyders' ; 
and thus wylle they saye," sayd the quene to Syr Launcelot, "have 
ye noo doubte thereof." 

ix. "Madame," said Syr Launcelot, "I allowe your wytte, it is 
of late come syn ye were wyse, and therefor, madame, at this tyme 
I wille be rulyd by your counceylle, and thys nyghte I wylle take 
my rest, and to morowe by tyme I wyll take my waye toward 
Wynchestre. But wete yow wel," sayd Sir Launcelot to the 
quene, "that at that justes I wille be ageynst the kynge and 
ageynst al his felaushyp." "Ye may there doo as ye lyst," sayd 
the quene, "but by my counceylle ye shalle not be ageynst youre 
kyng and youre felaushyp, for therin ben ful many hard knyghtes of 
youre blood, as ye wote wel ynough, hit nedeth not to reherce 
them." "Madame," said Syre Launcelot, "I praye yow that ye be 
not dlspleasyd with me, for I wille take the adventure that God 
Wylle sende me.'* 

70 



APPENDIX 71 

And soo upon the morne erly Syre Launcelot departed. And 
tlienne he rode soo moche untyl he came to Astohit, that is. Gyl- 
ford, and there hit happed hym in the eventyde he cam to an old 
tjarons place, that hyght Sir Bernard of Astolat. . . Soo whan 
Sire Launcelot was in his lodgynge, and unarmed hym in his 
chamber, the okle baron and heremyte came to hym makynge his 
reverence, and welcomed hym in the best maner, but the olde 
knyght knewe not Sire Launcelot. "Fair sir," said Sir Launcelot, 
"I wold praye yow to lene me a shelde that were not openly 
knowen, for myn is wel knowen." "Sir," said his hoost, "ye shalle 
have your desyre. . . Sire wete yow wel I have two sones that 
were but late made knyghtes, and the eldest hyghte Sir Tirre, and 
he was hurt that same day he was made knyghte that he may not 
ryde, and his shelde ye shalle have. . . And my yongest sone 
hyght Lavayne, and yf hit please yow he shalle ryde with yow unto 
that justes ; for moche my herte gyveth unto yow that ye shold be 
a noble knyghte, therfor I praye yow telle me your name," said 
Sir Bernard. "As for that," sayd Sire Launcelot, "ye must holde 
me excused as at this tyme." 

This old baron had a doughter that tyme that was called that 
tyme the fayre mayden of Astolat. And ever she beheld Sir 
Launcelot wonderfully. And as the book sayth, she cast suche a 
love unto Sir Launcelot that she coude never withdrawe her love ; 
wherfore she dyed, and her name was Elayne le Blank. Soo thus 
as she cam to and fro, she was soo bote in her love that she be- 
soughte Syr Launcelot to were upon hym at the justes a token of 
hers. "Faire damoysel," said Sir Launcelot, "and yf I graunte 
yow that, ye may saye I doo more for your love than ever I dyd 
for lady or damoysel." Thenne he remembryd hym that he wold 
goo to the .justes desguysed ; and by cause he had never fore that 
tyme borne noo manere of token of no damoysel, thenne he said, 
"Faire mayden, I wylle graunte yow to were a token of yours upon 
myn helmet, and therfor what it is shewe it me." "Sir," she 
said, "it is a reed sieve of myn, of scarlet wel enbroudred with 
grete perlys" ; and soo she brought it hym. Soo Syre Launcelot 
received it and sayd, "Never dyd I erst soo moche for no damoy- 
sel." And thenne Sir Launcelot bitoke the fair mayden his shelde 
in kepyng, and praid her to kepe that untyl that he came ageyne. 



X. ... And soo . . . Sir Launcelot and Sire Lavayne made \ 
hem redy to ryde, and eyther of hem had whyte sheldes, and 
the reed sieve, Sir Launcelot lete cary with hym. And soo they 



72 APPENDIX 

tooke their leve at Syr Bernard the old baron, and att his doughter 
the faire maydeu of Astolat. And thenne they rode soo long til 
that they came to Camelot. . . But there Sir Launeelot was 
lodged pryvely, by the raeanes of Sir Lavayne, with a ryche bvir- 
geis, that no man in that tonne was ware what they were, and soo 
they reposed them there til oure Lady Day, Assumpcyon, as the 
grete feest sholde be. 

Soo thenne trumpets blewe unto the felde, and kynge Arthur 
was sette on hyghe upon a skafhold to beholde who dyd best. 
But these kynges and this duke were passyng weyke to holde 
ageynsc kynge Arthurs party, for with hym were the noblest 
knyghtes of the world. . . Soo there began a stronge assaile 
upon bothe partyes. 

xi. "Now," sayd Syre Launeelot, "and ye wille helpe me a lytel, 
ye shalle see yonder felaushyp that chaseth now these men in oure 
syde, that they shal go as fast bakward as they wente forward." 
"Sir, spare not," said Sire Lavayne, "for I shall doo what I maye." 
Thenne Sire Launeelot and Sire Lavayne cam in at the thyckest 
of the prees. . . Thenne the party that was ayenst kynge 
Arthur were wel comforted, and thenne they helde hem to gyders 
that before hand were sore rebuked. Thenne Sir Bors, Sir Ector 
de Marys, and Sir Lyonel called unto them the knyghtes of their 
blood. . . Soo these nyne knyghtes of Sir Launcelots kin 
threste in myghtely, for they were al noble knyghtes ; and they of 
grete hate and despyte that they had unto hym, thoughte to re- 
buke that noble knyght Sir Launeelot and Sir Lavayne, for they 
knewe hem not. And soo they cam hurlynge to gyders and smote 
doune many knyghtes of Northgalys and of Northumberland. And 
whanne Sire Launeelot sawe them fare soo, he gat a spere in his 
hand, and there encountred with hym al attones Syr Bors, Sir 
Ector, and Sire Lyonel, and alle they thre smote Sir Launcelots 
hors to the erthe, and by misfortune Sir Bors smote Syre Launeelot 
thurgh the shelde into the syde, and the spere brake and the hede 
lefte stylle in his syde. Whan Sir Lavayne sawe his maister lye on 
the ground, he raune to the kynge of Scottes and smote hym to 
the erthe, and by grete force he took his hors and brought hym to 
Syr Launeelot, and maulgre of them al he made hym to mounte 
upon that hors ; and thenne Launeelot gat a spere in his hand, 
and there he smote Syre Bors hors and man to the erthe. In the 
same wyse he served Syre Ector and Syre Lyonel, and Syre La- 
vayne smote doune Sir Blamore de Ganys. And thenne Sir 
Launeelot drewe his suerd, for he felte hym self so sore y-hurte 



APPENDIX 73 

that he wende there to have had his dethe. . . And thenne 
afterward he hurled in to the thyckest prees of them alle, and dj^d 
ther the merveyloust dedes of armes that ever man sawe or herde 
speke of ; and ever Sire Lavayne the good knyghte with hym. 
And there Sire liauncelot witli his suerd smote doune and pulled 
doune, as the Frensshe book maketh mencyon, moo than thyrtty 
knyghtes, and the moost party were of the Table Round. . . . 

xii. ''Mercy, Jhesu," said Syr Gawayne to Arthur, "I merveil 
what knyghte that he is with the reed sieve." "Syr," saide kynge 
Arthur, "ho wille be knowen or he departe." And thenne the 
kynge blewe unto lodgynge, and the pryce was gyven by herowdes 
unto the knyghte with the whyte shelde, that bare the reed sieve. 
Thenne came the kynge with the honderd knyghtes, the kynge of 
Northgalys, and Sir Galahaut the haute prince, and sayd unto 
Sire Launcelot, "Faire knyght, God the blesse, for moche have ye 
done this day for us, therfor we praye yow that ye wille come 
with us, that ye may receyve the honour and the pryce as ye have 
worshipfully deserved it." "My faire lordes," saide Syre Launce- 
lot," wete yow wel yf I have deserved thanke, I have sore bought 
hit, and that me repenteth, for I am lyke never to escape with my 
lyf : therfor, faire lordes, I pray yow that ye wille suffer me to de- 
parte where me lyketh, for I am sore hurte. I take none force of 
none honour, for I had lever to repose me than all the world." 
And ther with al he groned pytously, and rode a grete wallop 
away ward fro them, untyl he came under a woodes syde. And 
whan he sawe that he was from the felde nyghe a myle, that he 
was sure he myghte not be sene, thenne he said with an hygh voys, 
"O gentyl knyght Sir Lavayne, helpe me that this truncheon were 
oute of my syde, for it stycketh so sore that it nyhe sleeth me." 
"O myn owne lord," said Sir Lavayne, "I wold fayn do that myght 
please yow, but I drede me sore, and I pull oute the truncheon, 
that ye shalle be in perylle of dethe." "I charge you," said Sir 
Launcelot, "as ye love me drawe hit oute." And there with alle 
he descended from his hors and ryght soo dyd Sir Lavayn, and 
forth with al Sir Lavayn drewe the truncheon out of his syde ; 
and he gaf a grete shryche and a merveillous grysely grone, and 
the blood braste oute nyghe a pint at ones, that at the last he 
sanke doun, and so swouned pale and dedely. "Alias," sayd Sire 
Lavayne, "what shalle I do?" And thenne he torned Sir Launce- 
lot in to the wynde, but soo he laye there nyghe half an houre as 
he had ben dede. And so at the laste Syre 'Launcelot caste up his 
eyen, and sayd, "O Lavayn, helpe me that I were on ray hors. for 



<4 APPENDIX 

here is fast by withiu this two myle a gentyl heremyte, that som- 
tyme was a fulle noble l<nyghte and a grete lord of possessions." 
. . . And thenne with grete payne Sir Lavayne halpe hym 
upon his hors ; and thenne tliey rode a grete wallop to gyders, 
and ever Syr Launcelot bledde tliat it ranne doune to the erthe. 
And so by fortune they came to that liermytage. 

xiii. . . Now torne we unto l?:ynge Arthur, and leve we Sir Launce- 
lot in the hermytage. Soo whan the kynges were comen to gyders 
on bothe partyes, and tlie grete feeste shold be holden, kynge Ar- 
tliur asked the kynge of Northgalys and theyr felaushyp where 
was that knyghte that bare the reed sieve. '"Brynge hym afore 
me, that he may have his lawde and honour and the pryce, as it is 
ryglit." Thenne spake Sir Galahad the haute prynce, and the 
kynge with the honderd knyghtes, "We suppose that knight is 
mescheved, and that he is never lyke to see yow nor none of us 
alle, and that is the grettest pyte that ever we wyste of ony 
knyghte." . . . "As for that," sayd Arthur, "whether I knowe 
hym or knowe hym not, ye shal not knowe for me what man he is, 
but Almighty Jhesu sende me good tydynges of hym," and soo 
said they alle. "By my hede," said Sire Gawayn, "yf it soo be 
tliat the good knyghte be so sore hurte, hit is grete dommage and 
pyte to alle this land, for he is one of the noblest knyghtes that 
ever I sawe in a felde handle a spere or a suerd. And yf he may 
be founde, I shalle fynde hym, for I am sure he nys not fer fro 
this towne." . . . Ryght soo Syre Gawayne took a squyer 
with hym, upon hakneis, and rode al aboute Camelot within vj 
or seven myle. But soo he came ageyne, and coude here no word 
of hym. 

Thenne within two dayes kynge Arthur and alle the felaushyp 
retorned unto London ageyne. And soo as they rode by the waye 
liit happed Sir Gawayne at Astolat to lodge with Syr Bernard, 
there as was Syr Launcelot lodged. And soo as Sire Gawayn was 
in his chamber to repose hym, Syr Barnard the olde baron came 
unto hym, and hys doitghter Elayne, to chere hym and to aske 
hym what tydynges and who dyd best at that turnemeut of Wyn- 
chester. "Soo God me help," said Syre Gawayne, "there were two 
knyghtes that bare two whyte sheldes ; but the one of hem bare 
a reed sieve upon his hede, and certaynly he was one of the best 
knyghtes that ever 1 sawe jaste in felde. For I dare say," said 
Sire Gawayne. "that one knyght with the reed sieve smote doune 
fourty knyglites of the Table Round, and his felawe dyd ryght 
wel and worshypfully." "Now blessid be God," sayd the fayre 



APPENDIX 75 

raayden of Astolat, "that that knyght sped soo wel, for he is the 
man in the world that I fyrst h)ved and truly he shalle be laste 
that ever I shalle love." "Now, fayre mayde," sayd Sir Gawayne, 
"is that good knyght your loveV" "Certaynly, sir," sayd she, 
"wete ye wel he is my love." "Thenne knowe ye his name," sayd 
Sire Gawayne. "Nay, truly," said the damoysel, "I knowe not his 
name nor from whens he cometh, but to say that I love hym, I 
promyse you and God that I love hym." "How had ye knouleche 
of hym fyVst?" said Sire Gawayne. 

xiv. Thenne she told hym as ye have herd tofore, and hou 
her fader lente hym her broders Syr Tyrreis shelde, "And here 
with me he lefte his owne sheld." "For what cause dyd he so?" 
sayd Sir Gawayne. "For this cause," sayd the damoysel, "for his 
sheld was too wel knowen amonge many noble knyghtes." "A, 
fayr damoysel," sayd Gawayne, "please hit vow lete me have a 
syghte of that sheld." . . . Soo whan the sheld was comen. 
Sir Gawayne took of the caas ; and whanne he beheld that shelde 
he knewe anone that hit was Sir Launcelots shelde and his owne 
armes. "A, Jhesu mercy," sayd Syr Gawayne, "now is my herte 
more hevyer than ever it was tofore." "Why?" sayd Elayne. 
"For 1 have grete cause," sayd Sire Gawayne. "Is that knyght 
that oweth this shelde your love?" "Ye, truly," said she, "my 
love he is : God wold I were his love." "Soo God me spede," sayd 
Sire Gawayne, "fair damoysel, ye have rygbt, for, and he be your 
love, ye love the moost honourable knyghte of the world, and the 
man of moost worshyp." "So me thoughte ever," said the dam- 
oysel, "for never or that tyme, for no knyghte that ever I sawe 
loved I never none erst." "God graunte," sayd Sire Gawayne, 
"that eyther of yow maye rejoyse other, but that is in a grete 
adventure." . . . "But I drede me," sayd Sire Gawayne, "that 
ve shalle never see hym in thys world, and that is grete pyte that 
ever was of erthely knyghte." "Alias," sayd she, "how may this 
be? is he slayne?" "I say not soo," said Sire Gawayne, "but wete 
ye wel, he is grevously wounded by alle maner of sygnes, and by 
mens syghte more lykelyer to be dede than to be on lyve ; and wete 
ye wel he is the noble knyghte Sire Launcelot, for by this sheld I 
knowe hym." . . . "Truly," said Sire Gawayne, "the man in 
the world that loved hym best hurte hym soo." . . . "Now, 
fair fader." said thenne Elayne, "I requyre yow gyve me leve to 
i-yde and to seke hym, or els I wote wel I shalle go oute of my 
mynde, for I shalle never stynte tyl that I fynde hym and my 
broder Syre Lavayne." "Doo as it lyketh yow," sayd her fader, 
"for me sore repenteth of the hurte of that noble knyghte." 



76 APPENDIX 

Ryghte soo the mayde made her redy, and before Syre Gawayne 
makynge grete dole. Thenne on the morne Syr Gawayne came to 
kynge Arthur, and tolde hym how he had fonde Sire Launcelots 
shelde in tlie kepynge of the fayre mayden of Astolat. . . "By 
my hede," said Sir Gawayne, "the fayre mayden of Astolat loveth 
hym merveyllously wel ; what it meaneth I can not saye ; and she 
is ryden after to seke hym." Soo the kynge and alle cam to Lon- 
don, and there Sire Gawayne openly disclosed to alle the courte 
that it was Sire Launcelot that justed best. 

XV. Soo as fayr Elayn cam to Wynchestre she soughte there al 
aboute, and by fortune Syr Lavayne was ryden to playe hym to 
enchauffe his hors. And anone as Elayne sawe hym she knewe 
hym, and thenne she cryed on loude untyl hym. And whan he 
herd her, anone he came to her, and thenne she asked her broder, 
"How dyd my lord Sire Launcelot V" "Who told yow, syster, that 
my lordes name was Sir Launcelot?" Thenne she told hym how 
Sire Gawayne by his sheld knewe hym. Soo they rode to gyders 
tyl they cam to the hermytage, and anone she alyghte. So Sir 
Tiavayne broughte her in to Sire Launcelot. And whanne she 
sawe hym lye so seke and pale in his bedde, she myght not speke, 
but sodenly she felle to the erthe doune sodenly in a swoun, and 
there she lay a grete whyle. And whanne she was relevyd she 
shryked and saide, "My lord. Sire Launcelot, alias, why be ye in 
this plyteV" and thenne she swouned ageyne. And whan she cam^ 
to her self. Sire Launcelot kyst her, and said, "Fair mayden, why' 
fare ye thus? Ye put me to payne ; wherfor make ye nomore 
suche chere, for, and ye be come to comforte me, ye be ryght wel- 
come ; and of this lytel hurte that I have I shal be ryghte hastely 
hole by the grace of God. But I merveylle," sayd Sir Launcelot, 
"who told yow my name." Thenne the fayre mayden told hym 
alle how^ Sire Gawayne was lodged with her fader : "And there 
by your sheld he discoverd your name." "Alias." sayd Sir 
Launcelot, "that me repenteth that my name is knowen, for I am 
sure it will torne unto angre." And thenne Sir Launcelot compast 
in his mynde that Syre Gawayne wold telle queue Guenever how 
he bare the reed sieve, and for whome, that he wyst wel wold 
torne unto grete angre. Soo this mayden Elayne never wente 
from Sir Launcelot, but watched hym day and nyght, and dyd 
suche attendaunce to hym that the Frensshe book saith there was 
never woman dyd more kyndelyer for man than she. . . 

xvii. . . . Thenne were they there nygh a moneth to gyders, 
and ever this mayden Elayn dyd ever her dylygente labour nyghte 



APPENDIX 77 

and daye unto Syr Launcelot, that ther was never child nor wyf 
more meker to her fader and husband than was that fayre mayden 
of Astolat. . . 

xviii. . . . Soo thenne they made hem redy to departe 
from the heremyte, and so upon a morne they took their horses 
and Elayne le Blank with them. And whan they came to Astolat, 
there were they wel lodged, and had grete chere of Syre Bernard 
the old baron and of Sir Tyrre his sone, and so upon the morne, 
whan Syr Launcelot shold departe, fayre Elayne brought her fader 
with her and Sir Lavayne and Sir Tyrre, and thus she said : 

xix. "My lord Syr Launcelot, now I see ye wyll departe. Now 
fayre knyghte, and curtois knyghte, have mercy upon me and suf- 
fer me not to dye for thy love." "What wold ye that I dyd?" 
said Syr Launcelot. "I wold have yow to my husbond," sayd 
Elayne. "Fair damoysel, I thanke yow," sayd Syr Launcelot, "but 
truly," sayd he, "I cast me never to be wedded man." . . . 
"Alias," sayd she, "thenne must I dye for your love." "Ye shal 
not so," said Syre Launcelot, "for wete ye wel, fayr mayden, I 
myght have ben maryed and I had wolde, but I never applyed me 
to be maryed yet .; but by cause, fair damoysel, that ye love me as 
ye saye ye doo, I wille, for your good wylle and kyndenes, shewe 
yow somme goodenes, and that is this, that were somever ye wille 
beset youre herte upon somme goode knyghte that wylle wedde 
yow, I shalle gyve yow to gyders a thousand pound yerely, to yow 
and to your heyres ; thus moche will I gyve yow, faire madame, 
for your kyndenes, and alweyes whyle T lyve to be your owne 
knyghte." "Of alle this." saide the mayden, "I wille none, for, 
but yf ye wille wedde me ... , wete yow wel, Sir Launcelot, 
my good dayes are done." "Fair damoysel," sayd Sir Launcelot, 
"of these thynges ye must pardonne me." Thenne she shryked 
shyrly and felle doune in a swoune ; and thenne wymmen bare her 
in to her chamber, and there she made over moche sorowe. And 
thenne Sir Launcelot wold departe, and there he asked Sir Lavayn 
what he wold doo. "\Vhat shold I doo," said Syre Lavayne, "but 
folowe yow, but yf ye dryve me from yow, or commaunde me to 
goo from yow?" . . . Thenne Sir Launcelot took his leve, and 
soo they departed, and came unto Wynchestre. And whan Arthur 
wyste that Syr Launcelot was come hole and sound, the kynge 
maade grete joye of hym, and soo dyd Sir Gawayn and all the 
knyghtes of the Round Table excepte Sir Agravayn and Sire Mor- 
dred. Also queue Guenever was woode wrothe with Sir Launcelot, 
and wold by no meanes speke with hym, but estraunged her self 



78 APPENDIX 

from hym, and Sir Launcelot made alle the meanes that he myght 
for to &peke with the quene, but hit wolde not be. 

Now speke we of the fay re mayden of Astolat that made suche 
sorowe daye and uyght that she never slepte, ete, nor drank, and 
ever she made lier oomplaynt unto Sir Launcelot. So when she 
had thus endured a ten dayes, that she febled so that she must 
nedes passe out of thys world, thenne she shryved her elene, and 
receyved her Creatoure. And ever she complayned stylle upon 
Sire Launcelot. Thonne her ghoostly fader bad her leve suche 
thoughtes. Thenne she sayd, "Why shold I leve suche thoughtes? 
am 1 not an erthely woman? And alle the whyle the brethe is 
in my body I may complayne me, for my byleve is I doo none 
offence though I love an erthely man, and I take God to my 
record I loved none but Sir Launcelot du Lake, nor never shall, 
and a clene mayden I am for hym and for alle other. . . For, 
swete Lord Jhesu," sayd the fayre mayden, "I take the to record, 
on the was I never grete offenser ageynst thy lawes, but that I 
loved this noble knyght Sire Launcelot out of mesure, and of my 
self, good Lord, I myght not withstande the fervent love wherfor 
I have my dethe.'' And thenne she called her fader Sire Bernard 
and her broder Sir Tyrre, and hertely she praid her fader that 
her broder myght wryte a letter lyke as she did endyte hit ; and 
so her fader graunted her. And whan the letter was wry ten word 
by word lyke as she devysed, thenne she prayd her fader that she 
myght be watched untyl she were dede. "And whyle my body is 
hote, lete this letter be putt in my ryght hand, and my hande 
bounde fast with the letter untyl that I be cold, and lete me be 
putte in a fayre bedde with alle the rychest clothes that I have 
aboute me, and so lete my bedde and alle my rychest clothes be 
laide with me in a charyot unto the next place where the Temse 
is, and there lete me be putte within a barget, and but one man 
with me, suche as ye trust to stere me thyder, and that my barget 
be coverd with blak sarayte over and over. Thus, fader, I by- 
seche yow lete hit be done." So her fader graunted hit her feyth- 
fully, alle thynge shold be done lyke as she had devysed. Thenne 
her fader and her broder made grete dole, for when this was done, 
anone she dyed. And soo whan she was dede, the corps, and the 
bedde, alle was ledde the next way unto Temse, and there a man, 
and the corps, and alle, were put in to Temse, and soo the man 
styred the barget unto Westmynster, and there he rowed a grete 
whyle to and fro or ony aspyed hit. 

XX. Soo by fortune kynge Arthur and the quene Guenever were 
spekynge to gyders at a wyndowe'; and soo as they loked in to 



APPENDIX ''^ 



Tem«e, thev aspyed this blak barget, and hadde merveylle ^v-liat it 
mente \ Thenne the kynge made the barget to be holden 

fast and thenne the kyng and the quene entred with certayn 
knvghtes wyth them, and there he sawe the fayrest woman lye in 
a ryche bedde coverd unto her myddel with many ryche clothes, 
and alle was of clothe of gold, and she lay as though she had 
smyled. Thenne the quene aspyed a letter in her ryght hand, 
and told it to the kynge. Thenne the kynge took it and sayd, 
"Now am I sure this letter wille telle what she was, and why she 
is come hydder." Soo thenne the kynge and the quene wente oute 
of the barget, and soo commaunded a certayne wayte upon the 
barget. 

\nd soo whan the kynge was come within his chamber, he called 
many knyghtes aboute hym, and saide that he wold wete openly 
what was wryten within that letter. Thenne the kynge brake it 
and made a clerke to rede hit, and this was the entente o the 
letter : "Moost noble knyghte Sir Launcelot, now hath dethe 
made us two at debate for your love. I was your lover tha^jnen 
called the fayre mayden of Astolat ; therfor unto alle ladyes ^ 
make my mone. Yet praye for my soule, and bery me atte leest 
and offre ye my masse peny ; this is my last request. And a clene 
raavden l' dyed, I take God to wytnes. Pray for my soule. Sii 
Launcelot, as thou art pierles." This was alle the substance n 
the letter And whan it was redde, the kyng, the quene, and alle 
the knyghtes wepte for pyte of the doleful complayntes. 

Thenne was Sire Launcelot sente for. And whan he was come 
kynge Arthur made the letter to be redde to hym And whp^nne 
Sire Launcelot herd hit word by word, he sayd, "My lord Arfhur, 
wete ye wel I am ryghte hevy of the dethe of this fair damoysel. 
God knoweth I was never causer of her dethe by my wyllynge 
and that wille I reporte me to her own broder,-here he is, Sir 
Lavayne. 1 wille not saye nay," sayd Syre Launcelot but that 
she was bothe fayre and good, and moche I was beholden unto 
her but she loved me out of mesure." "Ye myght have shewed 
her " sayd the quene, "somrae bounte and gentilnes that myghte 
have preserved her lyf." "Madame," sayd Sir Launcelot, "she 
wold none other wayes be ansuerd, but that she wold be my wyf, 
Ld of [this] I wold not graunte her, but I proferd her, for her 
good love that she shewed me. a thousand P^"^^ yerly to her and 
to her heyres, and to wedde ony manere knyght that she coude 
fynde best to love in her herte. For, madame," said Sir Launce- 
lot, "I love not to be constrayned to love; for love muste aryse of 



80 APPENDIX 

the herte, and not by no constraynte." "That is trouth," sayd 
the kynge, "and many knyghtes love is free in hym selfe, and never 
wille be bounden, for where he is bounden he looseth hym self." 
Thenne sayd the kynge unto Sire Laimcelot, "Hit wyl be your 
worshyp that ye over see that she be entered worshypfully." 
"Sire." sayd Sire Launcelot, "that shalle be done as I can best 
devyse." 

And soo many knyghtes yede thyder to behold that fayr mayden. 
And soo upon the morne she was entered rychely, and Sir Launce- 
lot offryd her masse peny, and all the knyghtes of the Table Round 
that were • there at that tyme offryd with Syr Launcelot. And 
thenne the ponre man wente ageyne with the barget. Thenne the 
queue sente for Syr Launcelot, and prayd hym of mercy, for why 
that she had ben wrothe with hym causeles. "This is not the 
fyrste tyme," said Sir Launcelot, "that ye have ben displeasyd 
with me causeles ; but, madame, ever I must suflfre yow, but what 
sorowe I endure I take no force." Soo this paste on alle that 
wynter with alle manere of huntynge and haukyng, and justes 
and torneyes were many betwixe many grete lordes, and ever in 
al places Sir Lavayne gate grete worshyp, soo that he was nobly 
renomed amonge many knyghtes of the Table Round. 



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